Finally Whittled
by The Towel's Rage
Summary: She was once an emotionless fool, who wanted nothing but solitude.He was a hotheaded young fellow, who understood love. They met, and things changed. But for the better or the worse? No one could tell. You decide.
1. By the Waterside

**

* * *

Prologue: By the Waterside**

Willow.

Weeping willow.

The weeping willow.

Kill the weeping willow.

One by one, she added words to the garbled sentence. Carving imprints in the soft bark, she found that her nails had caught several splinters, and the raw flesh under them was throbbing from the pain.

Still, she ignored the calling for help, and meticulously whittled the scratchy bark into the alphabets.

Abruptly, she stopped and sighed. This wasn't right. Finally examining her fingers, she yanked each sliver of wood out of the fleshy tissue which had never tasted the sun before. Pain. She felt the pain. And maybe, that was what she was looking for.

She picked up a pebble next to her, where the pink lace trimmings of her cotton sundress lapped up the lake's water hungrily. Its surface was smooth. So smooth that her finger seemed to slide over the glassy exterior. She scooped some water into her hands and trickled it over the pebble. It ran off, the way oil does on your teeth. Grasping it firmly, she flung it out to the body of water. If you looked carefully, vengeance could be detected beneath her expressionless façade.

The stone created ripples, like a piece of crepe paper was crinkled up. And far far away, the ripples rode to the other end of the titanic lake.

She felt the gritty sand beneath her toughened palms, and smiled cynically. How funny, that something so insignificant could cause pain. Ah, pain. What was pain? To her, it was love. Love was pain. Had she been the pearl and the world her oyster, humanity would be devoid of love. But nothing was up to her. Nothing was **ever **up to her.

"Dei! Dei come back! It's time for lunch!"

"Coming, give me a minute."

"Why do you need a minute, child? What can you do with a minute? Sit and stare at your stupid tree again. Do something better! Time is my money!"

"Yes Aunt Lana. I'm coming. In a **minute**."

"You stubborn girl. Take after your father. I'm _counting_! 1…2…3…4…I'm tired. You count yourself and you tell me."

"Yes Aunt Lana."

She scrubbed her nails in the cool water, relishing the stinging twinge when the water washed the tip of her fingers. She smirked sardonically as the colorless liquid quickly took on a diluted red shade, and finally, she drew her icy fingertips out of the water and sucked them.

Then, she threw a grain of dirt in the water for the last time, and watched as the net of water caught it, and gently lowered it to the sand below. And she left.

All that was left was the scraped bark, the little fragments of wood, a weeping willow and a pale shade of red dancing in the water.

Everything was normal.

* * *

"Jody, what was the point in coming here? You know there isn't anything but old trees and maybe a fox or two. And I'm sure Mother wouldn't want me carrying home a dead animal." An impatient, muffled voice floated up from the willows.

"Wait, you'll see in a moment. I told you I'd show you something interesting didn't I? And when did I give you reason not to trust me?" another person answered the first placidly.

Silence. Then a long sigh was released and the sound of leaves restlessly brushing against each other started up again.

Finally, two boys stepped into the clearing, and the crunch of gravel beneath them was the only sound as they gazed around the environs, one with docile contentment and the other with thrilled awe.

"Jody where did you find this place?! It's amazing! Look what we can do, we can build a small treehouse here, and get Mother and Father and Aunt Elma and Uncle here! We can play our flutes as loud as we want and we can hold gatherings! Think of it Jody! We can blindfold our friends from school and bring them here to smoke! They'd have to pay money to get here! We can make money Jody!" the other boy rambled on excitedly.

"No! I didn't bring you here to let you turn this place into your…your playground or for you to have a business scheme! Don't you appreciate nature at **all**? Look at the lake, it's so peaceful, and the willows! I've never seen so many willows! And we can relax here!" Jody retorted indignantly.

"Yes yes, all that's just fine, but Jody the money! Think of the money! We can buy our own bows and arrows now; we don't have to have Mother and Father threaten us to take them away when we misbehave! Wouldn't that be wonderful?!" He waved Jody's concerns away indifferently.

"I can't believe you! Don't you **ever **come back here again!" Jody muttered furiously, and frog-marched the other boy out of the serene ambience.

Amid protests from the young entrepreneur, the willows were left, once again, to bask in their glory in solitude.

**

* * *

Five years later…**

Corbet sat at the edge of the water, allowing the fresh water to taint his trousers. He sat in thought, mind wandering through the nooks and crannies of his imagination to probe the answer out of himself. His father was the head of Kyrria's army, and he had been summoned for a mission of capturing a convict who had escaped from gaol.

Corbet knew it was a dangerous task, and his father was getting old, too weary for these things. Still, the King Charmont insisted on sending him one last time, but was kind enough to send much help along.

He was worried about his father. Although aid was ready at hand, this operation would kill his father, let alone tire him out. The ogres chase should have been the last of

his father's career, but they wouldn't leave him alone.

Not that his mother cared at all. Oh no, she was too worried about how the family seemed to gel together on the outside, rather than being troubled about what the interior really was.

Could he fight the urge to stand up for his father and tell the King to assign someone else the duty? Could **he **go in place of his father?

Suddenly, a rustle shook him out of his grim thoughts. His head snapped around to scan the willows. Who could it be? Jody? Had he come to scare Corbet off his "island" again? An animal? It seemed possible, but then he spotted a dark figure lurking in the corner of the trees. No, it wasn't an animal, and it wasn't Jody. It was the girl who always appeared. She fled again, and he gave chase yet another time. Darting around trees and avoiding shrubs, he kept the girl in sight until she finally dashed further into the forest. He decided not to give chase, but leaning against a weeping willow like many times before, his forehead filled with moisture and his heart beating vigorously, he vowed to find her.

Maybe she would give him an answer.

**A/N: My first Ella Enchanted fanfiction and I hope you like it!**


	2. That game of chase

**That game of chase**

She crouched down beside the shoreline, amused at the fact that the water came only so close to her, but she was never touched. She could never be touched. Pondering, she absentmindedly threw a leaf into the water, watched it sail away, and then succumb to the luring of the bottom of the lake.

But these things weren't important. No, not important compared to what was doggedly lurking in her mind. Who was that strange boy that kept coming to her territory? His face was burned brown by the sun; his hair, streaked with all shades of gold, fell loosely across his brow. She couldn't see too clearly, but through the sunlight filtered by the weeping willows' leaves, his lashes were ivory. Heavy lidded eyes, through which their green, washed with light, seemed barely discernible, an unnamed color that existed only in that moment.

But who was she to say anything? She was a nobody. And nobodies didn't love. She didn't love.

He was hardworking though. She could see him bringing pieces of paper into her terrain, and look through them, furrowing those finely carved eyebrows, and creasing his otherwise flawless forehead. Then, he'd crumple up a stash of papers in frustration, and throw them into the lake. They'd float gently on the waters, inching out further and further, bobbing to the rhythm of the ripples which pulled the yellowed documents way, until finally, his guilt would get the better of him, and he'd hurriedly wade out into the clear lake, pick up the pieces and return back to his position by the weeping willow, occasionally looking round uncomfortably.

That was how he'd first spotted her. She'd been squatting next to a shrub, angry that someone dared to encroach on her land, when he'd whipped around to face her. It was too late for her to do anything but turn and flee. So she ran, afraid to turn back. She knew that should she do so, she would be endangered.

You see, this girl had a secret. A secret that no one but her Aunt and herself knew. And what was it? She could not show her face to the world, for she had features so entrancing that men could do nothing but follow her. She was born this way, and her father was so affected, that her mother, her own flesh and blood, had no choice but send her away. They rode from Kyrria to Wolleck, refusing to stop lest her father could bear the urge no longer to snatch her from her cradle and bundle her away for himself.

The mother of this child wept when she had to let go of her daughter, for it was like tearing a part of her out, and leaving it to rot in the snow. She knew, as well, what it was like to have a curse, a gift turned into a curse. She had once been through it, and she knew that it was possible, so possible, to crack the curse, but this time, it was the father of the child possessed, and the girl could do nothing. You see, this mother was Ella. Ella, the revered royalty.

She wondered now, a girl called naught but Dei, should she reveal her face to him? She knew what the curse was, and she knew it would lure him like it lured every other man she would meet. Dei adjusted black shawl she had wrapped around her features. It was hot, with a burning sensation crawling up her nose and the damp, humid breathing trapped in the covered area made it harder to inhale. Dei knew that boy would come soon, so she had to make a choice quickly. Should she, or should she not? She longed to know him, talk to him. She'd been lonely for the whole of her life, unable to show the world her face. She sighed. No, she could not do such a thing. It would ruin her, and what her Aunt Lana had worked for all these years: to achieve an image of normality. She had grown up solitary, but she could never venture two steps away from her house, without turning back in fear.

She stiffened. She could hear footsteps behind her. He had come again. Could it be too late to run? If she moved now, he would hear her and give chase again. She was tired of running, tired of running away. She hesitated, then sprang up, ready to start that game of tag again. Looking back a last time, she finally ran. That was her biggest mistake, for when she turned back, he caught sight of her. But this 'he' was not **her **'he'. It was a different he, and in the excitement, she had let her hand holding the shawl drop a little, disclosing her eyes. It was all that was needed to magnetize him. Panicked, she started fleeing, and he followed.

This man was faster than the other boy, and easily, he grabbed her hand, and whirled her around. Dei's heart was pounding painfully in her throat. What was she to do? She had never come into contact with a male before, and now the curse was acting on him. What would he do to her? She struggled, drawing in air to breathe, but he put a finger on her lips to shush her. His look was kind, gentle, so she complied, and calmed. He whispered, "Follow me," into her ear, and she heard the sound, muffled by the light fabric. She had a decision to make, and one to make fast. And she made it. Nodding her head slightly, she let him lead the way out of the landscape she knew so well, for it was the only one she knew.

Out into the glaring sunlight, she squirmed uncomfortably, and wrapped the shawl over her face even tighter. She could not risk being seen. She just followed where she was led, and hoped that she was not in the way of danger. She could hear people laughing at her, and from the darker figures outline by her shawl, she could see them pointing at her, but all the time, she was glad of that warm hand guiding her.

Finally, she heard the sound of a door opening, and a smell of sandalwood filled her senses. She looked down and saw a step below, and she cautiously went up. Then, in black silhouettes, she saw a circle of people sitting around a table.

"Take it off, take the cloth off for a while, don't worry, you aren't ugly, don't be afraid, no one's going to hurt you," he breathed into her ear, in that soothing warm tone she was already falling in love with. He had no idea that that was precisely what she was afraid of. But for once, she decided to throw caution to the wind, and ripped the shawl off. Immediately, she saw the men's eyes turn wide, and took on a glazed feel. She could feel the hand in hers trembling. All but one was affected. A man sitting directly opposite her stared at her with his startling green eyes. She drew in a gasp. It was **him**. The sound seemed to startle the women into action, and they clapped their hands over the men's eyes, and she, embarrassed, instantly covered her face again. The effects were immediate. His hand stopped shaking, and she could hear a sigh of relief from the ladies. Her cheeks were red with humility. How could she do that? And why was he here?

"Jody where did you find her? She's bad luck, take her away. Take her away!" the woman's voice seemed frantic. Dei could feel herself, retract slowly.

"She's not, Emma! I saw her at the lake, a lake near my weeping willows. I went back today, and I saw her, trying to run away. She's not bad luck." He answered firmly, and his grip grew a little tighter. Since Dei was watching for the reaction of **him**, she was sure she was the only one who caught him twitch slightly. She knew he knew.

"You know she is! Do what you want, but don't drag my husband and I into this! Don't mess with fate Jody, don't mess with fate!" Emma snarled, standing up, her chair scraping backwards loudly.

Dei could take no more of this. She was sick of people hating her. She threw Jody's hand from hers, whirled to face the door, and ran. Running again. And again, and again. When could she ever stop running? Why did she have to have her life ruined? What did she do, that was so despicable that she ended up like this. Many ladies wished for her face, her sensuous countenance, but they never realized how much of a burden it was. If only she could be normal…

By this time, she was stumbling through the market, the cloth smothering her gasps of despair, and the scalding tears running down her pale cheeks. She had no idea where she was going, but she had to get away. Behind her, she could hear the crunch of stones, and she knew someone was chasing her.

Suddenly, she slammed into a hard object, and the impact threw her on her back.

The last thing she felt was a sharp pain digging into her back, and a swimmy feeling, before she blacked out.

* * *

She used her tongue to probe around her mouth, and there was a dry, sort of sort feeling. It was strange. Curious, she parted her lips, and licked them. They tasted of crusted blood, and when she ran her tongue over her bottom lip, she immediately felt a searing pain, and she knew that her lip had cracked. She used her second finger to prod the area, and took surprising pleasure in that it hurt so much.

She slowly opened her eyes, and then instantaneously squinted against the bright light. Dei shielded her eyes against the offensive warmth and cautiously sat up, taking in a deep breath. Then, pain seemed to wham her from the back of her head, and groaning, she clutched her scalp. As she rubbed it, she managed to take a look around her, and the room was a pastel blue color, with aquamarine streaks of paint around the room, and white frilly curtains hung from the ceiling, drawn back to allow sunlight to spread its rays about the room through windows. She could hear the sounds of horses neighing in the background, and the constant thudding of blood in her head. She clambered down from her bed, onto the navy blue carpet, so soft that it delighted her senses, and slowly walked through the room. In the right corner, a cloth was draped onto a round, wood table, on which sat a vase that particularly caught her interest. It seemed to be pearly white, but it glistened rainbow in the sunlight. As she advanced closer, she saw that there were little drops of liquid. Now confused, she went right up to it, and saw that there was water flowing from the top of the vase to the bottom. Gaping in fascination, she reached out to touch it…

"Doctor, are you sure she's alright? She hasn't been up for-" somebody opened the door, and a voice filled with concern rang sonorously. She spun around on her heel, panic clotting in her throat, for she had no cloth with her. What to do? Oh god, what to do?

Then, she noticed that one of the two men standing before her was **him**. The other, with a potion in hand, started stepping forward to her, his eyes already taking on that familiar glazed expression.

Her savior had none of it though, he steered the doctor out, who fought hard against him, but he finally managed to lock the doctor out. There was a pregnant silence, and Dei didn't know what to say. Thank you? Her mind was already blank.

"I'm Corbet. And you are? I think you'd better sit down."


	3. Who is false?

Who is false? 

When his eyes locked onto hers, her breath hitched, and she could do no more than stare at him. Her heart pummeled in her chest, pulsing to get out of the restricting cage it was captured in. Oh what enrapturing features he possessed! Should she have chosen to stare at a portrait for all eternity, he would be the defining centerpiece. Then, he blinked. Snap, went her fantasy, and she was ripped out of her dreamland. She rubbed her eyes wearily, mind screaming to enter her little world again.

Suddenly, she realized that on her face, she was exposed to him, and the curse would have grabbed hold of him. In a frantic panic, she could do naught but whirl around and reach blindly for a piece of cloth with eyes glazed with horror. She tugged on the bed sheets, stretched for the curtains…

"I am not affected." For the first time, he spoke. His voice was not of honey or coated sugar, but filled with determination, and stubbornness. There was a lilt of resonant quality, like tides on a shore.

She froze. This man spoke falsities! No man could resist her, even if they tried. Should she be alone with a man so suspicious, a man who could not even recognize truth in his face?

"How can that be? You lie." She whispered, the sharp syllables creating explosions in her speech.

"I tell you, I do not see what others see. What I see is a woman whose arrogance of her own beauty has deceived others into believing that it so. But I know that this lady is not the sort to swindle. I need an explanation. Who are you?"

"Witchcraft! You've done something to yourself! No man can stay away. Give me the ingredient! Tell me, and let me bless the world with it!"

"I hold no ingredient."

"I stay with no man who tricks me." She snarled with contemptuousness, and made a move to run out of the room, heading for the giant oak doors.

"You can't." His voice rang out, bouncing off the walls that made her feel heady already. She couldn't? She couldn't what? As if reading her mind, he went on, his voice carrying a tone of amusement.

"You can't go. Think. You have no clothes but the ones you don, the ones, may I remind you, that I gave you," and when she looked down, she saw it was true. A thin lace covered her, but not enough to tear and hide her face, "and you have no where to go to. You don't know where you are. You can't go anywhere. Think, I ask you." He finished with flourish.

Damnation! She saw he was right. In knocking herself out, she was a prisoner in her own mind, and now a captive of his. Who was this man? How could he have been given such a beautiful face and such an ugly inside? She suddenly slackened, back curved, defeated in every sense of the word.

"What do you want with me?"

"I don't want anything. I just need to know, who are you?"

"I have no name." Defiance struck in, for she knew that really, in the world, she was a nobody, and nobodies did not have names.

"Everyone has a name. Tell me yours."

"Dei."

"Dei what?"

"Deidra. I have no last name."

"Why are you this way?"

She flared up. What was 'this way'? Was she abnormal? Was she different from everybody? Even as she asked the questions, she knew the answer.

"I have enough of these questions! Give me my belongings and let me go! You have no need for me, and I can survive on my own."

"The world doesn't work that way. I can't let you go. I take my leave now, for I am busy. I bid you farewell."

"You can't leave me just like that! You cannot! How can you just kidnap me? Are you-" But what he was, he never found out, for he closed the heavy doors with a neat 'click', and strode to wherever he was destined to go.

She fumed silently on the bed, where she was sitting. How **dare **he treat her like she was no more than a toy that could be swung around and made light of? OH he would pay, he would regret doing this to her. One day. But how? How could she dent his armor? She abruptly stood up, lace making a slight swoosh sound. Although she was sure that Corbet had locked the door, she charged at it with fury so intense that wood would have incinerated near her. That was only in her dream world. The oak doors stood as solid as ever with shiny varnish glimmering in the day.  
As she tried again, the door suddenly gave way, and she was propelled forward into a warm body. What had she done now! She had completely delivered herself into Corbet's hands, with silver wrapping and all! She stumbled out of his grasp, muttering apologies under her breath, but his hand caught hers as she shamefacedly made for the bed.

"Deidra, thank god! You're safe!" he pulled her into a hug, his torso against hers. Hold on, that was not the voice of Corbet…no, this voice full of passion and affection could not be that cold-hearted beast's voice. It was Jody!

"Jody, oh get me out of this-" She pulled away, searching urgently in his eyes, although she had not registered the hug yet. She only wanted to escape from this hellhole- THE CURSE! The words screamed out in her mind and she tore away from him, grabbing a pillow and covering her face.

"Deidra wait, it's okay, Corbet gave me something. I cannot be pulled in by the curse for a while. It's okay Deidra." He spoke again, his voice soft and inviting, full of sympathy. Slowly, Dei emerged from behind the pillow, face full of disbelief. So that little cheat **did **have something! Oh she was going to threaten him, make him tell her. And how could one be so selfish? To keep hidden the one thing that would make her life so much more bearable. He was rotten in the heart.

"Ah, there we are, you're so pretty…" Jody sighed in satisfaction.

"And don't I know it," she mumbled under her breath. Then, she thought. If Corbet gave Jody something, and they were such good friends, then surely Jody knew the substance too! Her fingers were fluttering in excitement; she was just so close to turning her life around! Masking her fervor, she asked, voice trembling a little.

"Jody, what was it he gave you?"

"I don't know, he didn't tell me anything, he just gave me something a little blue, a little green, a liquid of course, and he told me to drink it. And I did. I didn't ask him what it was…" he frowned in consternation, thinking deeply.

Her shoulders drooped in disappointment, and her eyelids closed resignedly over her disillusioned pupils. Her back slumped and hands steadied. Jody, pulled out of his thoughts by a disheartened sigh, felt awful. This girl had to survive; she had to be able to see the rest of the world. Maybe, maybe…

"I'll try to ask him Deidra, I will. Don't worry about this." He cupped her hand with his own. Immediately, the ball of black shot up.

"You will? You'll do that for me? Oh thank you!"

"Yes, I'll find it out for you. No promises though," he murmured, with a tight smile.

Dei flung herself at the man deep in thought. She hugged him around the waist, hard.

Yes, all was well. But how long would it stay that way?

A/N: OH THANK YOU FOR THE REVIEWS!!!!Special thank you to julissa and baby green eyes! You guys were so nice! Sorry, I haven't been updating, I'm really busy these days; tests nearly every day.

**(baby green eyes) **those people were actually Jody's friends, you'll hear more of them later on. Haha, yeah, Dei is supposed to be really restricted and trapped in this story.

Signed,

The Towel's Rage


	4. Stalked

Bohemian Rhapsody

Is this the real life-  
Is this just fantasy-  
Caught in a landslide-  
No escape from reality-  
Open your eyes  
Look up to the skies and see-  
I'm just a poor boy,i need no sympathy-  
Because Im easy come,easy go,  
A little high,little low,  
Anyway the wind blows,doesnt really matter to me,  
To me

Mama,just killed a man,  
Put a gun against his head,  
Pulled my trigger,now he's dead,  
Mama,life had just begun,  
But now I've gone and thrown it all away-  
Mama ooo,  
Didnt mean to make you cry-  
If Im not back again this time tomorrow-  
Carry on,carry on,as if nothing really matters-

Too late,my time has come,  
Sends shivers down my spine-  
Bodys aching all the time,  
Goodbye everybody-Ive got to go-  
Gotta leave you all behind and face the truth-  
Mama ooo- (any way the wind blows)  
I dont want to die,  
I sometimes wish I'd never been born at all-

I see a little silhouetto of a man,  
Scaramouche,scaramouche will you do the fandango-  
Thunderbolt and lightning-very very frightening me-  
Galileo,galileo,  
Galileo galileo  
Galileo figaro-magnifico-  
But Im just a poor boy and nobody loves me-  
Hes just a poor boy from a poor family-  
Spare him his life from this monstrosity-  
Easy come easy go-,will you let me go-  
Bismillah! no-,we will not let you go-let him go-  
Bismillah! we will not let you go-let him go  
Bismillah! we will not let you go-let me go  
Will not let you go-let me go  
Will not let you go let me go  
No,no,no,no,no,no,no-  
Mama mia,mama mia,mama mia let me go-  
Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me,for me,for me-

So you think you can stone me and spit in my eye-  
So you think you can love me and leave me to die-  
Oh baby-cant do this to me baby-  
Just gotta get out-just gotta get right outta here-

Nothing really matters,  
Anyone can see,  
Nothing really matters-,nothing really matters to me,

Any way the wind blows...

-Freddie Mercury

**Stalked**

He hurried up the winding staircase, his tunic already stained with ungodly patches of perspiration. He had to rush, he had to hasten, or he would be found out, and the consequences of such would make him shudder. No, he could not be uncovered.

His leather shoes made _tap tap tap _sounds on the hard stone, and every time the clicks were heard, he winced. What would happen if someone heard him? Sneaking around the manor in the dead of the night, scurrying through hidden passageways, oh he would be thrown into jail without a thought for his name!

With the dying candlelight he had, he finally slipped into the night, leaving the manor. Cupping his palm around the waxy candle, he fished in his pocket for the wristwatch he was not allowed to put on. 12:30. Yes, he still had time, but he had to make it quick.

Suddenly, something behind him crashed. He spun around, heart crashing into his throat. Hide! His mind screamed, hide!

"Lo-ord, look at the amount of trash that is! I never knew Anton could eat so much! He's like that giant we saw up North dearie!" the voice carried an undertone of exasperation.

"Honey, he's a guest, you can't stop him! Just bear up for a little while, he'll move off soon." A silhouette hugged another around the waste, as they spoke in a little more than a whisper.

He sighed in relief. Cold sweat had pooled at the top of his lip, in the little triangle carved so finely. No time, no time…He heard the trees muttering to him, and he snapped out of his shock, and resumed his mission. His mission of treachery.

_-Flashback-_

_He sat nervously at the oval table. Oh how much it reminded him of King Arthur's table. Twiddling his thumbs, he tapped the concrete floor with his shoes. Any time now, and he'd have to make a decision. A decision that might kill him, or bring him wealth and power. Yes, a decision to change his life. He looked around him. Homely portraits of bride and groom hung on the stone walls, smiles frozen and captured in a fantasy world. Rubbish. He didn't believe in happiness. No, happiness was a disease spread from contaminated ruffians and hooligans. He was not made for happiness. _

_Wooden shelves lined the cave-like house, books neatly cased next to the other. Green, blue, red, all velvet and all yellowed. Yes, heaps and heaps of books. He twisted round. Ah, there was the deer's head. Mounted on the stone, its hollow eyes seemed to glow red, an illusion of his mind. With the nostrils flared and head caught in a moment of anger, he was almost certain it would leap out of its position in the wall and come soaring at him, hooves thudding and grunting wildly._

"_So there you are," the door slammed shut and a woman with slits for eyes came strutting into the stuffy room. She spoke arrogantly, chin turned up, eyelids half closed, lips pursed in a permanent pout and a luscious mole decorated the edge of her upper lip. It took all of his self-restraint to stop a smirk from emerging. She reminded him of a peacock with feathers wilted. She was a sorry sight, though she was draped in bedazzling jewels and her clothes wrapped around her skin-and-bone waist. Pathetic. _

"_At your service." He bowed mockingly, making sure that she saw the half-leer that graced his lips. _

"_No need to charm me. I'm immune." She dusted imaginary dust off her fur coat (though she was indoors and it was humid), replying haughtily. He stifled a snort. Either she was feigning ignorance or she really was as brainless as she looked. Her intelligence level was obviously not up to par. _

"_Of course. Let's get down to business."_

"_You know what I want. And let's not play mind games here. I know what you want too. So, sign on that dotted line, and I'll lay out the terms for you."_

"_Why would I betray my master? I've been working for him for ten years."_

"_We'll give you a pay rise of 10,000 more KJs."_

"_I've been at his side for the longest time. I trust him completely, and vice versa."_

"_20,000 more KJs. My final offer."_

"_I get 50,000 KJs in three months." A sigh._

"_Fine. 50,000 KJs more."_

"_Done."_

"_Now sign, for the Lord's sake, so we can get out of here faster. I can't risk anything now."_

"_Oh yes, **Lady **Emma. Anything you wish…" This time, she caught the sarcasm. _

"_You will not speak to me like that! I command respect!"_

"_Of course, Lady Emma." And as he bowed down and his papery lips brushed the Peacock's hand, he thought he finally understood what they meant when they called peacocks cocky._

_-End flashback-_

"And I tell you, she was screaming like a stuck hog inside the house-" He curled his upper lip in disgust at the man's more than vivid description of his little lady. Appalling how these thugs conducted themselves in public. He straightened out his collar. At least **he **had more class.

He sneaked around mulberry bushes that were planted exorbitantly, and stole through the darkened alleys like a robber making his infamous escape. Then, he reached the little hole in the tree with no name, and sought for the tiny piece of paper somewhere in his pocket. Finally grasping it, he chucked it into the hole. He was done for tonight. He rummaged through his pocket again, and fished out his trusty watch. Oh dear God! It was past 12:45, and Master needed his bath at 1. He would notice his lack of service.

Run.

As he dashed breathlessly into the servant's room, a small sprightly youth jumped up from the bed.

"He's asked for you! I held him off for a while! Stop letting your little madam keep you out at night!" he squeaked.

He snorted as he sprinted through the carpeted hallways; the gullibility of youths.

"Butler!"

"Yes Master, Corbet, at your service."

And he bowed yet again.

**A/N: Oh ho! The plot thickens again. Who's Lady Emma? Points to you if you can guess! And I made a reference to a VERY famous book, can you spot it? Haha! Thanks again to julissa and baby green eyes! You guys ROCK!**

**Julissa: Haha, I'm glad you think that way! I really hoped that I could flesh out the characters! Thanks, and please review! I really appreciate your comments!**

**Baby green eyes: Haha, yeah I know Corbet seems evil in the previous chapter, but don't judge just yet! Of course, you're given full permission to plunge a dagger in his chest though! Haha! Corbet actually came from Corbett. That's a Norman French name, and I actually loved the name because it means 'young crow' and it's like Corbet seems cunning and conniving, but really, he has to act that way. It's pronounced "core-bet", with the't' included. Thanks, and please keep reviewing! Yu guys keep me motivated!**

**Signed,**

**The Towel's Rage**


	5. Hero on Horses I

Cinderella 

You always read about it:

the plumber with the twelve children

who wins the Irish Sweepstakes.

From toilets to riches.

That story.

Or the nursemaid,

some luscious sweet from Denmark

who captures the oldest son's heart.

from diapers to Dior.

That story.

Or a milkman who serves the wealthy,

eggs, cream, butter, yogurt, milk,

the white truck like an ambulance

who goes into real estate

and makes a pile.

From homogenized to martinis at lunch.

Or the charwoman

who is on the bus when it cracks up

and collects enough from the insurance.

From mops to Bonwit Teller.

That story.

Once

the wife of a rich man was on her deathbed

and she said to her daughter Cinderella:

Be devout. Be good. Then I will smile

down from heaven in the seam of a cloud.

The man took another wife who had

two daughters, pretty enough

but with hearts like blackjacks.

Cinderella was their maid.

She slept on the sooty hearth each night

and walked around looking like Al Jolson.

Her father brought presents home from town,

jewels and gowns for the other women

but the twig of a tree for Cinderella.

She planted that twig on her mother's grave

and it grew to a tree where a white dove sat.

Whenever she wished for anything the dove

would drop it like an egg upon the ground.

The bird is important, my dears, so heed him.

Next came the ball, as you all know.

It was a marriage market.

The prince was looking for a wife.

All but Cinderella were preparing

and gussying up for the event.

Cinderella begged to go too.

Her stepmother threw a dish of lentils

into the cinders and said: Pick them

up in an hour and you shall go.

The white dove brought all his friends;

all the warm wings of the fatherland came,

and picked up the lentils in a jiffy.

No, Cinderella, said the stepmother,

you have no clothes and cannot dance.

That's the way with stepmothers.

Cinderella went to the tree at the grave

and cried forth like a gospel singer:

Mama! Mama! My turtledove,

send me to the prince's ball!

The bird dropped down a golden dress

and delicate little slippers.

Rather a large package for a simple bird.

So she went. Which is no surprise.

Her stepmother and sisters didn't

recognize her without her cinder face

and the prince took her hand on the spot

and danced with no other the whole day.

As nightfall came she thought she'd better

get home. The prince walked her home

and she disappeared into the pigeon house

and although the prince took an axe and broke

it open she was gone. Back to her cinders.

These events repeated themselves for three days.

However on the third day the prince

covered the palace steps with cobbler's wax

and Cinderella's gold shoe stuck upon it.

Now he would find whom the shoe fit

and find his strange dancing girl for keeps.

He went to their house and the two sisters

were delighted because they had lovely feet.

The eldest went into a room to try the slipper on

but her big toe got in the way so she simply

sliced it off and put on the slipper.

The prince rode away with her until the white dove

told him to look at the blood pouring forth.

That is the way with amputations.

They just don't heal up like a wish.

The other sister cut off her heel

but the blood told as blood will.

The prince was getting tired.

He began to feel like a shoe salesman.

But he gave it one last try.

This time Cinderella fit into the shoe

like a love letter into its envelope.

At the wedding ceremony

the two sisters came to curry favor

and the white dove pecked their eyes out.

Two hollow spots were left

like soup spoons.

Cinderella and the prince

lived, they say, happily ever after,

like two dolls in a museum case

never bothered by diapers or dust,

never arguing over the timing of an egg,

never telling the same story twice,

never getting a middle-aged spread,

their darling smiles pasted on for eternity.

Regular Bobbsey Twins.

That story.

-Anne Sexton

**Hero on Horses**

"Come on…just a little…why won't you **budge**?!" she growled at the door that sealed her escape to the outside world. She stood up, huffed in frustration and edgily swept away the few droplets of perspiration dotting her caramelized complexion. She glared at the wooden doors with intricately deceiving patterns pattering the edges of the doors, and gave it a swift kick.

Instantly, contractions of pain tided through her right toe, each one a wave more vindictive than the one before. Oh, oh, oh! How stupid she was! Clutching her toe and limping to the bed, she hurled expletives at the emotionless doors.

"Oh how hilarious. Yes, laugh at me won't you! You're just a piece of wood! You want to challenge me? I'd win you **any **day! Ha! Laugh at me!" She spouted nonsensically, and heaved at the door again, shoulder sore for bone slamming against flesh, and flesh slamming against wood.

At that moment, the door happened to open up, like she'd finally gained approval from the impassive guardians of Light. Unfortunately, she was already flying in the direction of the doors, and like a bull whose matador had expertly maneuvered the red cloth away, she could not stop, and she went barreling into the hallway with another body stumbling and staggering under her weight.

**NOW**! Her mind screeched. This was her chance of getaway. She roughly pushed the body away in frenzy, leapt over the gigantic crease their weight had formed, and tore in the direction her body weight was already propelling her in. Run, run, run! Get out of here! She grinned as she streaked towards the end of the corridor. Freedom, she could taste that sweet sweet smell…

"Oof!" Dei hit the ground with her face scrunched up in startled anticipation of pain. She could literally feel her breath just being expelled from her stomach as someone lay over her. With her hands flattened on the carpeted floor, her mouth still in an 'o' shape and her legs splayed in an unladylike manner, she tried to calm her rapidly palpitating heart. She tried talking but all she could do was pant out more oxygen and finally, she resorted to thumping the John Doe above her.

"You ready to stop running away?" a cynical voice asked, and she could almost **see **the smirk in his words. Corbet, the epitome of evil. She tried to retort, but alas! Her air supply had dried up till she could do no more but unleash a feral snarl. She heard him chuckle sadistically, and she narrowed her eyes in reluctant surrender.

"Very good." He stood up first, and offered a hand to her. She snorted in derision; he actually thought she'd accept his help? She intolerantly slapped it away and stood up herself, with poise and dignity she'd like to have thought proved the previous situation otherwise. He looked taken aback for a moment, and then a flash of amusement crossed his face, before the mask of indifference covered his feelings.

"I see you wanted some exercise? Asking would have been much easier." She rolled her eyes. This man could not be sarcastic if he tried.

"And I heard some pleasant language just now?" He raised his eyebrow at her questioningly, in reference to her outburst at the oak doors previously. She flushed bright red; so he'd heard that? Oh dear god, he probably thought her insane! She cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure.

"I was…I was…polishing up on my oral skills." She answered, clearing her throat again, neck turning a darker hue of scarlet, trying to pull off a look of nonchalance, though pretty unsuccessfully. She turned away, refusing to acknowledge the look of mirth on Corbet's face. This was humiliating…

"Ah yes, always important to have oral skills. Anyway, I came by to ask you if you'd like to go riding with me. Our manor has a few acres of land that we can ride on. Yes? I'll send a maid to help you dress immediately. Please make your presence known in twenty minutes time. In the meantime, please, by all means, continue your oral improvisation." He replied dryly, walking away without giving her a chance for consent. Her cheeks were flaming by now. Perhaps she should have taken back her previous statement.

"Ah, wonderful, you're a pretty one." The maid muttered distractedly as she straightened the lapel of Dei's riding suit. If she had one nice thing to say about Corbet, it was that he had wonderful taste in clothes. Her suit was dark green, with silver thread bordering the trimmings. Her soft hair was tied up in a ponytail, and she relished the cool air brushing across her lips.

"I'm sorry, do you mind leaving me for a while? I would like to think." Dei touched the maid's hand softly as she leaned forward to ask. Her tone had changed to one of silk and soft velvet, and her fingers played with the speck of dried blood on her lower lip.

"Yes, lady. I'm sorry to intrude." The maid gave a staunch curtsy and retreated out of the room. As she left, Dei smiled shyly at her. The minute the maid turned her back on Dei, Dei abandoned the sweet attitude and honeyed tenor, opting for a troubled frown pressing on her eyebrows like iron weights dragging down a diver down to the deep abyss. She had to get out, flee from this absolute terror. Yes, dressing up like she owned the world in her spit bubble was entertaining to say the least, but she had to get back and stop running the risk of getting caught. The consequences would **kill **her, and she wasn't even kidding. Riding…**riding**! How could she go **riding **when she could barely get on a horse?!

She needed help. Serious help.

**A/N: Hey! I am SO sorry I didn't update for so long! I actually don't update on weekends? Because my parents are around and hmm…I'm a closet writer. Haha, they'd want to see this. Anyway, thank you SO MUCH for the reviews!**

**-xo-silver lined clouds-xo-: Thanks for the compliment! Yeah it is my first fanfiction, but I love writing, and I've been writing short stories since like a few years ago. Haha, thanks for reviewing!**

**Julissa.' : I cannot believe I forgot to add the ''' at the end! Sorry! Haha, it was confusing? Haha, you'll see later on! Don't worry! The book was actually To Kill A Mockingbird, and I read it like two years ago when I was about 9-10, so I brought it out again because of literature and I saw this part where Bob Ewell retells his testimony to the court. Haha, THANK YOU!**

**Baby green eyes: WOOHOO! It's time to party! You figured out the whole thing!!! Haha, 7 –up, healthy aren't you?! Haha, thanks for your reviews! You two (with Julissa) have been _so _nice! Haha, talk more! I love it when reviewers talk! THANK A LOT!!!**

**Sprays pesticide and the mosquitoes miraculously disappear!**

**Haha!**


	6. Hero on Horses II

**Hero on Horses II**

**_Freedom Song_**

On an old city bus in the streets of Hanoi  
The people sit quiet except for one boy  
He's humming and singing on a simple melody  
He said this is a song about being free

In the city of Stockholm they're reclaiming the streets  
Everybody's dancing and stomping their feet  
One guy is shouting in a megaphone  
He said this is ours and ours alone

Come on everybody sing with me  
This is a song about being free  
The days of submission won't last long  
This is a freedom song

Oh, here it goes!  
Rama lama ding dong ding dong  
Rama lama ding dong (ding dong)

O.K. check this out  
A Russian girl on a summer holiday  
On a Greyhound bus through the U.S.A.  
She said so this is how it feels like to be free  
Well the weather is nice and there's so much to see

Come on everybody sing with me  
This is a song about being free  
Days of submission, oh no, won't last long  
This is a freedom song

Oh, I gotta sing it!  
Rama lama ding dong ding dong  
Rama lama ding dong (ding dong)  
Rama lama ding dong ding dong  
Rama lama ding dong (ding dong)

In Kingston Jamaica & New York U.S.A.  
Across the whole world people fighting for another way  
Some of them sing and some of them write  
Some work hard in the factories and some just stand up fight

Come on and sing it!  
Rama lama ding dong ding dong  
Rama lama ding dong (ding dong)  
Rama lama ding dong ding dong  
Rama lama ding dong (ding dong)

-Randy

* * *

He sighed impatiently as he curried the horse. Why did a woman take the trouble to smoothen her hair, curl it and tie it into a loose bun when they'd just be trotting along? He would never even attempt to understand a lady's mind, for it would only waste his entire lifetime. Apocalypse, his Connemara pony, snickered softly as it nudged Corbet's hand. Corbet turned to smile at the young Ireland colt.

"Yeah buddy, I know. You want to run don't you? Hold on a little while. And this, buddy, is what happens when you make arrangements with ladies." Corbet raised his eyebrow and shook his head in exasperation. Apocalypse snorted deliriously in understanding and tossed his mane indignantly. Corbet grinned and should anyone have stumbled upon them, they would have witnessed an albino pony and a princely figure smirking at each other. Of course, the vanity of women was a language that would bind them all.

"What you **think **you doing?" A sharp voice tinted with anger grated his ears. He winced. Caught. He plastered on a falsely agreeable smile and bowed deeply to the short, stout lady waddling up to him.

"Grandmamma, what a pleasure to meet you this morning! Pray tell, what-" he started, but she cut his incessant rambling off.

"You no patronize me! You is thinking my Eengleesh is so bad? But oh no! Your Grandmamma know big words, patronize! Where you going? Hmm? You go gallop gallop to big trees? Never tell your Grandmamma? You is thinking you is who? Your Grandmamma is come too! You take me as...ah…com-com-accompany." Corbet's grandmother proceeded to mount Apocalypse, who whimpered softly and regarded Corbet with pitiful eyes as Grandmamma scrambled onto him. Corbet cringed; he could empathize with the poor mammal. Stout and hefty, his grandmother was not the lightest, most ideal rider Apocalypse desired.

She settled herself nicely on the back of his pony, yanking a few white strands off his mane. He whinnied in protest, yet did not buck her off. Corbet attempted a patient smile at his grandmother.

"Grandmamma, surely you don't want to come riding with u-me. It will not be kind to your back, and it's bad enough as it is. Maybe you should stay home and rest a little bit today." That was the worst thing he could say at a moment like this. She quivered in indignant fury, bottom lip trembling in insulted vehemence, and her cheeks were flushed such a hot red, one would have believed she had run a marathon.

"Stay home and rest a little bit, stay home and rest a little bit; **I **give you _stay home and rest a little bit_! My back no dead, riding why bad? Kind, kind, kind, you no even kind, why you care! No one even care poor, old, Grandmamma. No nothing do home…" Her voice descended into small, heated murmurings and explosions from the 'p's and 'b's which could be clearly heard. She rattled on and on, and Corbet sighed a little. What luck. To be caught by his grandmother was the worst thing that could happen. Now what was he to do? And yet again he blamed Deidra. If she hadn't taken her time, they would both be riding now, and maybe even getting to know each other better. But _no_, she just _had _to take her own sweet time to get down, and now he was landed with an irate grandmother with a flowered apron and brandishing a hairpin (she was now redoing her tight bun) which was looking sufficiently dangerous now.

"I apologize for the delay. Your maid and I were a little-undecided on the outfit. If I have incurred any extra cost or inconvenience, please accept my heartfelt apologies." A voice sounded over the grass, and the young man saw Deidra brisk-walking across the green. If he had not looked closely, he wouldn't have seen the cynical bordering desperation look that contradicted her statement. So she was lying to him. Interesting, he found, that this girl unlike most of her gender, could do such a thing with ease. Very interesting. And come ten months, or maybe a year, he would find out exactly how wrong that statement was.

"These would be my horses and my house, Lady Deidra, therefore cost would not be an issue for you to enquire about." He answered dryly, topping off on the indifference that both had now challenged the other to display.

"Of course, o-" She was abruptly interrupted by a terribly unladylike snort that originated from the grumpy grandmother sitting, incensed, on the suffering pony.

"Stop hoity-toity now! You and you talk like one piece meat _spinto _up your nose!Stop, stop, stop! I tell you no! Now we ride or no?" She shrieked in her perfect broken English, riled up. Corbet flinched, wondering what Deidra thought of his grandmother's dramatic theatrics. He peeked at her from the side of his eyes, and saw a faint, slightly amused smile playing on her lips. This was not good.

"Grandmamma," he tried to pacify her, but his grandmother only seemed to glare at him with intense disgust. He gave her a weak smile, which did not help the situation. Deidra seemed to have gathered the situation, and now put on a dazzling smile, inching towards his grandmother. He chewed on his inner lip a little; she wouldn't do that if she knew how hard his grandmother's kicks were.

"Madam, my name is Deidra. Good afternoon," and here she even inserted a little curtsy, "I have something so important that I **must **discuss with Sir Corbet immediately, and I would feel a little…awkward if someone else were around. I was wondering if you could kindly excuse us for today, if I could go riding with you another time? I so do love the sport…" She enunciated each syllable clearly, slowly, with sweetness so strong; bees would have been put to shame with their honey. And it worked.

"You talk like know you him. He try shoo me, no nice grandson. But you nice girl, I leave you, later go ride." His grandmother slid down the horse, and waddled off as Apocalypse visibly gasped at the sudden intake of fresh oxygen. Corbet mentally wiped his brow in relief; of course, he could not afford to lose face in front of Deidra.

"Shall we get on with it then?"

"Cer-certainly. Horse riding is…simply delightful."

* * *

What to do, oh what to do? She could not run through the moist grass, screaming that she had to use the lavatory. She couldn't suddenly go limp or lame. She _surely _could not tell him she was inexperienced. Oh no, she would lose all face, and then how could she stand it when he burst into peals of full-blown laughter?

"I picked one that hardly anyone rides. She can be temperamental (and she swore she heard him mutter "like you" under his voice) and I would leave it to one of its own gender to tame it. Maybe you'll be able to help us with her." He gave a slight incline of his head, as if to challenge her. Oh lord, he knew didn't he? He saw right through her. Now what, now what? She sent him a watery smile, yet inside she was screaming. He looked like he noticed her queer behavior, and probably attributed it to her excitement. Raising an eyebrow, he proceeded to walk, no saunter, in the direction of the woods.

"Shall we then?"

She hurried alongside him, his big strides leaving her inhaling sharply now and then. But by God, she wasn't going to complain. She had to save her image before it got soiled with dirt. Literally. And if the young Corbet discerned her difficulties, he didn't show it, other than a very slight hitch in his gait when she trailed too far behind.

Finally, they arrived at a certain tree, and Corbet looked around it, though frankly speaking, she saw nothing special about it: it looked exactly the same as the (approximately) three thousand three hundred and thirty three trees they'd passed. Then, she saw a head of red hair emerge suspiciously from the dark trees behind. _It _had narrowed eyes, and even between the tense eyelids of it, she could still catch a glimpse of black color shining. It flung its head up and neighed suspiciously at the trio. Then, Corbet's horse trotted carefully towards the shadowed creature and nudged it on the side. The horse grumbled a little, before warily inching its way out of the silhouettes. And it was a gift to mankind. Standing in its own powerful glory, the four-legged beauty stared defiantly at Corbet, as if mocking him for bringing it out of its own territory. Corbet sighed.

"She's yours for now. I trust you have experience. So, please mount and let us be off already." Deidra could hear the faint edge of annoyance lacing his tone. Mentally, she chuckled nervously, this was it. This was the moment where she was going to be flung off the stupid beast and thrown into the trees where Corbet _sir _would point a finger and laugh at her and ride off to leave her to die. She gave a weak smile and placed her foot in the little cup-like thing that she _assumed_ was where her foot went. And with whatever poise she had left, she raised herself up to sit on the squirming horse. And immediately toppled down. She lay splayed on the ground, her black hair rubbing in the dirt, and twigs poked uncomfortably into her back as the velvet fabric provided no shield from the woody torture. She tried to get up, but her back proved too sore to please her mind. She tried again. And again. And again. Yet she found that her back was rather fond of disobedience. Of course, from the corner of her eye, she espied Corbet with a rather amused, haughty expression on his face. She wrinkled her nose in distaste at his obvious humor in the situation, and vowed to get up if it were the last thing she did.

But of course, Corbet _sir _had to be just so considerate, and the white gloved hand she feared extended regally to help her up. With awful reluctance, and the terrible knowledge that she needed assistance, she took the proffered hand with the decorum of a young aristocrat who had smelt a particularly bad piece of spoiled cheese. She grunted a little as she hauled herself up from the forestry base and, with disinclination, nodded a little at him. He raised a perfect eyebrow, and turned away. Deidra sniffed daintily; if he was being arrogant, then she could too. She stalked away to the horse, and sent it a nasty look. It was entirely its fault. She prepared to get shoved on this monstrosity again, but this time Corbet took no chances. He briskly walked to her, and helped her up the horse. To her utter humiliation, he was skilled in the area of horses, and was able to mount her. She cleared her throat and looked away, signaling a little thank you sign, as he retreated with lordly prestige.

She kicked her horse in the thigh once, viciously, to make it hurt. It deserved some embarrassment too. However, our young Deidra seemed to have forgotten that she was at the creature's mercy, and thus let out a yelp when the horse stirred violently, and took off flying, with our protagonist clinging onto the polished leather for her dear life. With little time as the horse started its rocky descent into the abyss, Deidra spun around, and managed to catch a final glimpse of her host jumping onto his much less excitable horse and galloping after her. Then, with the thudding of the hoofs on soil, and the relentless shaking of her eyeballs in the globes that hosted them, she swung back round to make sure they did not crash into anything, not that she could have helped it if they did. Besides, her horse seemed pretty accustomed to the woods already, and was doing _just fine _without her guidance. Still, they rocketed off through countless oaks that came whistling past next to her ears, and twigs came dangerously close to her scalp as she dodged numerous near-disasters. Rattled, and nerves overexcited, she could do nothing but helplessly grip the measly strings and clench her thighs against the horse's body.

Sitting upright as she straddled the horse, she found that the wind rushing past her, blowing her hair back was bliss; it was better than when she was sprinting. And suddenly, she found horse-riding an old friend she missed on the way home. Laughing freely now, she threw her head back and took the reins. She carefully, albeit a little clumsily, maneuvered the streaming line of red and sandalwood brown through the green. What did this feel like? It was familiar, something she had felt before, something very close to her heart. The name for the sensation was just bubbling under her memory, yet she could not grasp hold of it. Then, she was left with no time to think, because Corbet had caught up with her, and he rode next to her, the two horses pummeling the same rhythm into the ground. He grinned at Deidra, the first genuine expression she had seen on his face, other than the bored, almost lazy mask he pasted on all the time. With the wind blowing her hair back in the right direction, and a man who was not taken in by her face, she smiled back. Who wouldn't have?

"I am glad you are enjoying yourself," he spoke, still with stiff formality, even as the warm smile graced his features. How absolutely strange! It was like a pig clucking like a chicken! She bit back a laugh, as the image flooded her mind. No it would not do to laugh openly around him. And so she answered with the same starched tone.

"Yes I am thank you for your concern." But the humor of the image refused to recede and the comedic note leaked out of her tone. She clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes dancing with mirth, and to cover up, she announced.

"Let's race."

And so they did, their hair ruffled by the wind, riding hard and squinting against the dust that the horses were kicking up. Deidra drove her horse hard, shouting for it to speed up, sometimes whispering words of encouragement to her horse. And although she was no rider, no skilled worker, her enthusiasm seemed to have caught on, for her horse dashed by herself, with her only giving moral support. Still, they were no match for Corbet's leggy companion and his expertise, and the pair shot ahead, leaving Deidra and her horse in sandy wake. Deidra huffed a little; really, he didn't have to show off! Yet she was too happy to care, because she had finally found a name for the feeling in her chest: _freedom._

* * *

A/N: Okay! Okay! I know what you're going to tell me! Don't shout! My ears won't be able to stand it! SORRY FOR TAKING SO LOONG!!!!I had a really bad writer's block, and I wrote half a page without going anywhere! This one is longer, so I hope you guys can all forgive me!

**-xo-silver lined clouds-xo- **Haha! You were reading this in a public library?! You'd better be careful the police don't drag you away to a mental asylum for going crazy! Haha thanks, and I really AM sorry about taking this long!

**julissa.' **– Okay! This is a longer chapter! At first I wanted to post like a little filler, but then I remembered what you said about longer chapters! I hope this is enough, if it isn't PLEASE let me know! Thanks! Sorry as well! Thanks for the reminder as well!

**baby green eyes- **HAHAHA! You're totally hilarious! Oh my God, if you were going to slap me on the head _then_, I don't want to know what you're going to do to me NOW! shudder Okay, okay, my fingers are aching, and I'm going to take a break, but PLEASE don't give up on me!!!!!

Thanks and review again! Thanks!!!!!!

Signed,

The towel's rage


	7. All the little signs

**All the little signs**

(Click Click Click, sshh)

Somebody turn the lights off.  
Sometimes my eyes are hollow and sleepy  
Somebody turn the lights down.  
Sometimes my skin wishes I was somewhere else  
Somebody turn the lights off.  
Sometimes the only way out is back in.  
Somebody turn the lights down.  
Click click click in the night.

Sometimes I turn the lights off and close the curtains,  
'cuz I like the dark, I'm a lonely person.  
And it's seems like my only friends are the TV, Maxim and FHM.  
That's why I drink 'till I pass out think 'till I black out.  
or watch Jay Leno 'till I crash out.  
It's like this whole world's consumed on some Pink Floyd shit,  
dark side of the moon, singing:  
- We don't need no education. -  
'cuz my life's like poltergeist,  
it sucks me in and I can't change the station.  
- We don't need no thought control. -  
And I try to really sleep as my life repeats,  
like I'm trapped in a rerun of my own show.

So somebody turn off the lights. Turn these lights off.  
So somebody show me you're there, and turn these lights on.

Do you mind if I flick this light switch?  
'cuz I don't want you to see me like this.  
I'm not normal I'm a different creature.  
You don't like me, I don't like me either.  
I keep seeing things that I can't resist.  
Got a girlfriend that barely knows I exist.  
Or maybe it's the Lithium I'm on,  
while I punch through crunch like Nirvana's song, saying:  
- I feel stupid, and contagious. -  
'cuz everytime I shut my eyes, I see angels with dirty faces.  
- Here we are now, entertain us. -  
Now my life's got me seeing death,  
like I'm back with the three witches of Macbeth.

So somebody turn off the lights. Turn these lights off.  
So somebody show me you're there, and turn these lights on.

Where do you go when the lights go out?  
Do you toss and turn and scream and shout?  
I know.  
- Why would you keep laughing?  
I know.  
Where do you hide when the sun goes down,  
and darkness falls and no one's around?  
I know.  
- Why is love such a bad word?  
Click click click in the night.

I know all bad things happen in threes.  
And hearts skip beats like scratched cds.  
When darkness falls, when strangers call,  
like finding phone numbers, in bathroom stalls.  
My back is against these walls of hatred.  
I feel like I'm trapped between Freddy Vs Jason.  
No escape from this blue lagoon.  
That's why I shout like I'm Ozzy, and I bark at the moon.

So somebody turn off the lights.  
- Somebody turn these lights off.  
So somebody show me you're there and turn these lights on.  
- So somebody show me you're there.  
So somebody turn off the lights.  
- Somebody turn these lights off.  
So somebody show me you're there and turn these lights on.  
- So somebody show me you're there.

Click click click in the night.

Dead Celebrity Status

He lay on the thin mattress that sagged under his weight, tense and muscles taut, rethinking the decision he had so firmly agreed to. But now he wondered: was it all worth it? Was it really worth his life, his flesh and blood for golden luxuries? Was it worth sacrificing his very _existence _to aid a lady half out of her mind and the other half consumed with flames of greed? Was it worth giving up his dogged devotion for a pitiful excuse of a woman? Was it really worth it? Then he thought of the sprawling mansion he was squander his money on, lawns neatly clipped, flowers in full bloom, the precious stones and metal he would treasure, the beautiful wife he would acquire through practiced allure, and he knew his answer. Of course, of course it was worth it. How could it not be? And he smiled a half-smile.

His fantasy was brusquely interrupted when the wooden door burst open, and his energetic roommate rushed in, in a flurry of motion. The fellow grinned a toothy salutation, and hopped onto the diminutive cot beside his. The bed creaked beneath his body, its spindly legs trembling with the Herculean effort of upholding the adolescent youth.

"How is the little lady?" the boy enquired, eyes bright with interest. Butler hesitated, peering at the teen suspiciously. What little lady? He had no lady. And then it struck him: the one he had conjure out of cotton that night, so that he could seal the deal. Yes, yes now he remembered. Silently, he assessed the minor before him. Butler could tell he was intelligent; he could see it from the vigilance in his eyes. Without any facial expression, Butler nodded casually, exposing no trace of doubt.

"Good. She's good." He said no more, for fear of divulging something that would contradict his bold statements from that night. He knew this rascal would pick up on it immediately and his reputation could suffer no more than what it already had, nor could he afford to draw superfluous attention to his double life. He had to make himself inconspicuous. And so he did what he did best: he diverted the inquisitive.

"Why are you not serving the Masters food now? It is nine past their lunchtime, the Masters will not be happy. You understand how things must go as they are made to go?" Butler spoke in his customary droll manner, eyebrows raised with muted disapproval as always. He wanted to watch the boy squirm; fiddle for excuses, so that all the limelight would be discreetly drawn away from himself. And so he awaited the expected reaction with nearly sadistic pleasure, yet he was disenchanted. The boy brushed away his cool mannerism and chilly countenance, and spoke, unruffled.

"Oh, Master is out with Sir Thomas, And Master Corbet has gone riding with his lady friend. They're mighty close if you ask me." The lad shrugged, his intense probing now concerned with another trivial matter. Butler tried to stifle his sudden alertness, yet a muscle in his cheek ticked, and eyes widened slightly. Gone with the lady friend, the schoolboy said, there was no doubt he was telling the truth, lest he had another cause for being as carefree as he was now. Usually, there would be an invisible tension that shrouded the musty air, maids and menservants always tensed to jump to attention, greet the Masters or their latest conquest, and serve them on their beck and call. Yes, this boy was no liar. Butler's heartbeat quickened tenfold. This was his breakthrough, his chance to accumulate evidence. Lady Emma had ordered him first to prove to her that the girl was, without gaffe, living in the household. Fine. What Lady Emma _commanded_, Lady Emma got. But that was only because she had the lure of money whipping and swirling around her like the snakes of Medusa. And they were enveloping him, converting his allegiance to the Masters to a backstabbing act of mockery. Not that he minded, of course. He only pledged his fidelity to wealth.

"Are they? And thus you can be lax? And hence you can neglect your duty? Boy, you are honoured to work in this household; to be slipshod is not even an option. Run to the maids; tell them the doorknobs need polishing. Tell the cook her meat has not been consistent; Master has remarked on it, and inform her that she has to send one of her apprentices to buy more from the market, and the doorman is busy, therefore you shall take over his post till he returns. Run your errands fast; Master doesn't like delaying. Now go." Butler spouted out a list of things that snapped out of his memory, yet conveyed his orders in perfect fluency. His unwelcome companion looked sharply at him.

"Do you ever smile?" He muttered under his breath, low enough that Butler had to strain to make out the syllables. The lad got up, brushed by him, shaking his head slightly and murmuring to himself. Before he got to the door though, Butler stopped him again.

"Boy."

The youth turned around, vexation clear as words on his face. Expectance of an apology hovered around. Butler quirked up the side of his mouth, a lucid travesty of a grin.

"Oh I smile. More than you know. Now go."

* * *

She sat under the elm tree, back supported by the woody facet, hand absently caressing the grass. She could smell the sickeningly sweet tang of flowers surrounding her, and she lowered her eyelids, hungrily devouring the taste of the forest. The cicadas chirping in the fading background, lovesick bird calls mourning for their aficionados, young Romeo and Juliet deer gamboling about, playing the taunting game of love. The wind picked up stray strands of hair draped around her neck, and teased it, flinging it in the air and abruptly flinging it down again. Temperamental, the wind vanished as fast as it had intruded, and she shivered in the slight cold. The sun was beginning its romantic plunge down into the murky bottoms of the sea, and the temperature was sinking steadily. She didn't want to move though; she couldn't think of another time when she had felt so-so stable in the world. Like she mattered.

"Cold?" a voice interrupted her quixotic fantasies and she reluctantly opened her eyes, to find another pair gazing at her, holding out a black velvet coat. She looked into his cinnabar eyes, took the coat and gratefully put it on, though with much mistrust. _Sir _Corbet and kind were words never to be strung in the same sentence. The velvet sighed against her skin, tickling it slightly and the feel of wooded slivers was subdued. She shifted, her back getting a little sore, but lied back down again. Corbet looked away, and wandered a little ways further, distractedly looking at the sunset, mind on issues unbeknownst to her. She exhaled deeply, hair fluttering below her nose, for she knew they should go. Her stomach was beginning its curdling grumble.

"We should go already." She pierced his distractions. Although she uttered the words soft, the stillness made it strident. He turned back to her, face blank and bland. She nearly apologized for the disruption, but she remembered what he had done before, and her face hardened. He watched quietly as her face streamed through expressions, but kept his silence. And as he studied her, subtly palpable, she had the queerest feeling that he could see straight through her soul.

They uttered not a word as they rode back to the house, the words she last spoke hanging heavily between them like a sinister companion. The horse knew its way and she could relax, letting it guide her. Her mind roamed around, exploring and probing different topics before quietly withdrawing back into its own cell. Finally, the domicile came into view over the yellow meadows, and they arrived. They bade each other goodbye, with Corbet informing her of the time of dinner. As she strolled back to her room, she thought of the bath she would enjoy, the book she would slowly flip through and smiled.

Then, she opened the door, and screamed.

**A/N: I know, I took ages, but now that school has started, I hardly have time to write. Haha, I apologize, but I **_**beg **_**you to be patient! Thank you. Yes, I know I'm evil, but I'll let you try and figure out what happens. Drop me a review, get the answer right and I'll dedicate the next chapter to you! Haha, now on to reviews!**

**Baby green eyes- Okay, okay, you're gonna scream, you're gonna whack me with a heavy book and then you'll dust your hands and chuck me into a garbage chute, I know, I know, so that when every time I wake up I'll take a whiff of the odor and faint again. Heehee…but then I can't WRITE, Einstein! Haha, I'm kidding, I really AM sorry about the time, and you like the grandma? Yeah, good, Haha, you'll be seeing more of her soon! Oh and besides…it'll be rather interesting to see how you look with your head shaved off…hmm…now I'M getting ideas, haha. Anyway, REVIEW! Please!**

**-xo-silver lined clouds-xo- Haha, oh thank you!!! You really made me want to finish this chapter up! Haha, thanks for understanding about the wait, haha, I've only been on a horse like two times, and I'm not sure what language to use, so I take Dei's amateur stand to an advantage! Haha! Review! Thank you so much!**

**julissa.'****- Hey! Thanks for waiting, really sorry about that. Haha, okay to clarify stuff, Jody isn't exactly Corbet's brother, they're cousins, Dei was really bored and frankly speaking, Corbet didn't give her much of a choice did he? Haha, urm, about the last one, Corbet doesn't actually hate her, if he did he wouldn't have helped her, and he thinks she is interesting, so basically, yeah that's why he invited her. Haha, is that alright? Thanks and PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE keep reviewing, you really help me! **

**Goofy-4ever- Hi there, thank you for the review! I hope you like this chapter too!!! Please review again!!!**

**copperflame- Hey, thanks so much for the review as well, sorry for making you wait so long, and yeah, I tend to be meticulous when it comes to spelling and such, though sometimes I oversee a few, but please review again! You guys really make my day! Haha!**

**Oh and the song I put down this time is not here for the lyrics, if you listen to it (just the music), the mood is sort of like a prelude to what the story is about. So yeah, I know the words have nothing to do with this story or era but the mood is the one that is suitable. **

**And to all,**

**Signed,**

**The Towel's Rage**


	8. Help me out God

_**Dedicated to baby green eyes, my beta reader!**_

**"Help Me Out God"**

Help me out God  
I need a little something  
Turn the brights on  
I can't see where we're going cause I don't know  
when things'll work out just fine  
Or if this road we're on leads us up  
Or is leading me on down to my wishing well  
Where I might drown  
Oh I might drown  
Cause I can't swim without you God  
Help me out God  
I need a little something  
Hold my hand  
So I know that I'm not falling down or spinning around  
Or am I really just fine is this the vertigo I fell  
Just simply fear or maybe real it's a long way down  
And I might fall and I might fall cause  
I can't stand without you God  
Help me out God  
I need a little something  
Just enough so I don't lose hope  
Before morning comes cause in the sun things'll work out just fine  
but this night's been extra long I fear I won't make it to the dawn  
Cause the night is dark and I might doubt and I might doubt cause  
I can't hope without you God  
Just enough for today get me through till tomorrow

-Superchick

(Let me clarify this first, in case you guys are angry at me for being religious. I'm not a Christian, but I thought that the mood and words are suitable for this chapter. I hope you agree, and if offended, ignore religious connotations. Thanks!)

She screamed and she screamed, until she couldn't hear herself, couldn't see her fingers, view blotched with white spots like parasitic fungus feasting on her glassy eyes. She drew in a breath, a sob choking her in her bare-faced panic. She tried to run. Truly, but her legs wouldn't let her. They melted into the ground like candle wax, and she could feel roots clambering over her feet, yanking her down, clawing at her legs, greedily devouring flesh. She swayed uncertainly, back, forth, back, forth, like a pendulum setting its mark. Her hand was frozen to the doorknob, veins protruding-hard as slate-on the back of her hand.

And pray tell, what got the lady in such a fix? A human, but it wasn't just a human. It was a human that looked like it had been dragged down to Hell by Beelzebub himself. It was a he. And he was dead. The flesh of his face was torn, with shards of glass imbedded in the folds of the tissue, a bloody mass of waste. His eyes were rolled up, the whites glaring out at her, and she could see the little red veins running towards the pupils. Frothy foam clung inside his gaping mouth like half-starved leeches slowly choking him to death. Arms were splayed across the wooden chair. _Her _wooden chair. She could not dare to continue downwards in fear of what she would find. She noticed, from the corner of her eye, the blood splatters on her bed. The blood splatters that seemed even more vicious on the otherwise pristine white sheets. The curious vase was mere debris now, the mahogany table overturned and its smooth surface disturbed by intrusive scratches.

She was so dizzy from shock, so giddy from horror that she didn't notice when somebody clapped a hand over her mouth. As an immediate reaction, she stepped back and she clenched her jaws. And then she realized, it was so quiet. So, so quiet. And as she was forced to look straight ahead, the scene was tattooed in her mind, zooming in on him every time her heart beat. Blood, frozen in its flowing stream down his mouth. Blood, matted in his hair. Blood, in his freshly yellowed corneas. Blood, blood, blood. Finally it sunk in. It wasn't just some liquid. It was _blood._

She needed to vomit. And she keeled over, retching out the insides of her guts. A grotesque mixture of yesterday's dinner and this morning's breakfast was spilt. And at the wrong moment, the somebody swung her up, carrying her gently, with her floating in his arms. But all she was concerned with was lying down; the sudden motion made her world spin, and she felt the urge to empty her stomach again. With her mind focussed on keeping her food in, she only vaguely recognized his face as Corbet, the bane of her existence. She could think no more, as her view came in spates, black uneasiness swallowing her vision intermittently. Her breakfast was about to return to the surface again.

Behind the roaring hum in her ears, she could dimly distinguish the opening of a door, and a voice whispering distractedly, "Water, water…" Was it her imagination that was soaring ahead of her mental state, or was her ears closing down on this world? She could no longer think. Slowly, she felt herself lowered to the ground, a smooth shiny floor. She moaned in agony. Only after hearing the hiss as a tap turned, and she felt cold fluid trickling down her neck, did she awake with a rude shock.

Gasping as the water blasted through her clothes, conquering the heat with its chill, she sat up. Vertigo was gone now, and disgust was rapidly taking its place. What sort of _sick _person would kill like that? Gulping in air, she clutched at her hair in distress, the picture of the young boy, barely seventeen, frozen in time kept bubbling to the surface, and a wave of nausea hit her. She tried to quash the sensation that was spreading through her blood. Tried to steel herself from ever seeing that image again. But it was impossible; and every second she was revisited by blood. Blood and flesh, all mangled into a mixture of red and white. O God, the white flesh that had never seen the sun, the blood that was so tediously stored in corners of his body. All spilt now, all slashed open.

Then came the tears. They poured down her cheeks. She knew not why she was crying, but she needed too, and so she did. Torrents of salty rapids streaked down her cheeks, and in her throat, a lump the size of a fist nestled itself, tightening the passageway as she wheezed. Sobbing, her tears were acquainted with the water in the marble tub where she was placed in. Suddenly, she felt a tap on her shoulder, and the rough clearing of a throat. Through the convex view her tears provided, she saw a distorted image of Corbet. Oh yes, she had forgotten about him! Looking uncomfortable, he handed over a towel and a white gown.

"Get yourself cleaned up, as I attend to the situation." He told her, not unkindly, and turned to leave, and she was left to stare at his back, with a green towel and a white gown in hand.

* * *

He had left her there, and he could feel her eyes boring holes into his back as he exited. In situations like this, he was trained. His mother frequently suffered from panic attacks that sent her into frenzies, and from a young age, he had been trained to react fast, and what to do. So skills do come in handy sometimes, he thought bitterly.

Yet when he had seen through her gown, O God, he could barely control the rush of want. The water had soaked through the fabric, and he could see the contours of her body, the folds it took and the angles it sharpened over. Like a temptress, she had unknowingly looked like. Lust was powerful, more so than love, and destructive. Very destructive. He had learnt the hard way, and he would never fall into the same trap again.

He had business to attend to, and it was by no means appropriate to think of such things at a time like this. Who had so brutally slain Gordon, the little messenger boy? Why? Gordon was a harmless boy, a child wanting to make a living, to feed his family since his father had passed on. What madman would kill a boy like that? A heartless one. Passing by a horrified maid on the way back to the room, he stopped her, only assuming that she had seen the sight.

"Tell the maids to clear it up, at once." He instructed her, as she bowed her head in quick salute, and as she hurried away, he could see her fingers trembling violently as she wrung them. Walking past the room to get to the front door, he looked inside for a moment. It was more gruesome than he remembered, and the body seemed like the Devil had sent his angels down to play hide-and-seek in Gordon's body, charging through his organs and his heart. It seemed that they had ravished it with the sinister intention of claiming it as their own, possessing him, owning him, ruling over him. He repressed a shudder, and forced himself to walk towards the front door.

"Send a message to Jody Coburn. Tell him it is from the Llewellyn household, sent by Corbet and request him to come tomorrow morning, at ten past nine. Go." He ordered a messenger boy to run. By the looks of it, this young fellow was a friend of Gordon, for he fled with teardrops streaming down his ashen cheeks, stumbling along the way. He turned to another petrified lad.

"Alejo, tomorrow morning, make sure you tell Gordon's family the news. Break it gently." He sighed, and moved away as the young boy nodded frantically. Best to break the news in the morning, it was too late now. He returned to his own room, where Deidra would be, and as he passed the accursed room, he saw several women standing outside, their weeping muffled by the cotton handkerchiefs they carried. He moved on, and welcomed the sight of his door when he saw it. Corbet Llewellyn did not want to see anymore misery.

As he clicked the door shut, he saw Deidra on his bed, eyes wide and frightened. She bit nervously on a corner of her gown. He drew in a breath quickly; Deidra looked sensual, every bit the proverbial angel tumbled down from the sky. Recovering quickly, he moved towards her cautiously, so as not to startle her. From then on, everything was routine. He knew how to deal with her emotions. He slowly sat on the edge of the bed, hands in front so that she knew he would not do anything startling. She cowered an inch, but held his eyes. Contact, good. She was alert.

"Lie down." He whispered softly, and without breaking the gaze, he lay down to show her that he would not harm her. Hesitatingly, she slid down, till their eye level was the same. He reached forward and placed a hand on her shoulder, stroking her. Her first reaction was a sudden intake of breath, but when he only continued to do so, the tension eased, though she was still high-strung. Corbet could not help but feel a pang for what he had lost. He was reminded too acutely of his mother, and for a moment he was distracted. But then he turned back to her, to her large eyes, and was brought back to Earth. He reached for the towel that was carelessly dangled on the bedside table, and used it to mop her brow. So familiar, yet so far away. He began humming a tune he always sung to soothe his mother. Slowly, he broke into the words, his mellow baritone easing away the rest of Deidra's fears. He felt the strain in her shoulders ebb away.

"_You can hear the wind, in the middle of the night,_

_It tells you, Hush baby hush, because mummy's next to you_

_And everything will be right._

_You can hear the wind in the middle of the night,_

_And it says, stay baby stay in your cradle and sleep_

_Mummy's here so sleep tight._

_You can hear the wind in the middle of the night,_

_It tells you, Hush baby hush, because…"_

He continued, voice so coaxing that she started singing timidly next to him. Soprano blended in with his deep voice, and together they breathed quietly. His heart caught in his throat, as the picture of his mother kept playing in his mind, like a broken recorder. Oh mother, if only you had lived.

He felt teardrops on his finger, and he looked down again. She was crying silently, not a sound, but there was an unremitting flow of hot tears scalding his finger. He knew she had to let it go, let it out, and just carried on singing, as her voice wavered. She stopped singing with him, and curled into a foetal position on the bed, just letting her misery out.

"You-you know," she sniffed, voice a little hoarse, a little unsteady, but with quiet determination, she spoke. He ceased his tune and listened.

"I never knew my mother. I mean, I know who she is, everyone does." He heard an inkling of bitterness under. "But I never really _knew _her. She was just someone there." She abruptly cut off, looked at him again, anxiety colouring her cheeks.

"I can trust you with a secret, right? I don't know why I'll tell you, but I need somebody to hear it." He could see that the secret was burdening her, so he nodded, and could only hope that the next day she would not regret.

"My mother…my mother, she's Queen Ella." Dear Lord, that was not a piece of news he expected. He inhaled sharply. This girl's mother and father were the rulers of this land? His father worked for them, God, the whole _country _worked for them. He heard her whimper a little, and he knew it was not the time to think.

"You-you know what I'm like. You know I can't be seen for a reason. And so my mother, my mother she loved me, but my father he could not see me. It was sick. _Sick._" Her voice betrayed disgust.

"A fairy, when I was born, gave me a gift. A gift that I would be so beautiful, I would be an enchantress. She forgot that everything she said would have a literal effect, and from then, people I met, men, were swept away. _Exactly _like she said. My father he was male too. And you know what that means. You know he will-he will…" She clapped a hand over her mouth, restraining her from sobbing. Though he was not close to her, he knew it was burning her inside, and so he drew her to his chest. He needed her to feel better. He needed to make up for what he did. Mother, oh can't you see I'm helping her? Helping her because I couldn't help you. Forgive me Mother! Forgive me!

He could feel his own tears pooling at in his eyes, but he blinked rapidly. No, he needed to be strong so that he could keep both of them afloat. Keep them both _sane_. Her cries were muffled against his chest, drops wetting his shirt, but he held on tight, because he knew she needed it. Slowly, Anxiety released her hold on Deidra, and let her go, floating her tenderly to sleep. He stayed there. Thinking and thinking. Tomorrow would be a headache, it would be a dark start, so he knew he had to rest. Looking down at Deidra's form, he smiled a crooked smile. A heartache. She was that angel that had fallen from God's grace, with wings broken, with loving heart torn. And he was there; he had to catch her, even if it was for the sake of repentance. He would catch her, he vowed.

**A/N: Hey guys! I'm back! Haha, I think this chapter is a little shorter, but bear with me! I just finished my piano exam so WHOO! A lot of pressure off me. Basically this chapter is to showcase Deidra's and Corbet's vulnerability, yeah, so reviews would really be welcome! Oh guys! Say hi to my beta reader, her name is baby green eyes, and she kind of vetoed my ideas when I was stuck at a junction! So! On to messages!**

**Copperflame- hey! Haha, yeah, it is quite difficult to catch sometimes, and I really hope you like this chapter as well, it's difficult to get the tone right and stuff, enjoy! **

**Baby green eyes- I am not even going to **_**answer **_**that! Haha, but you know, thanks for giving me ideas, and I guess this one's dedicated to you!!! And even if you're my beta reader, you're still gonna review right??!! Haha!**

**Julissa.'- hey! Yeah, haha, I made up for the lack of action here, because basically the first part is an introduction to this chapter, but I still haven't revealed it entirely. I'd bet you guys have already figured most of it out, haha. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it and please review!!!!**

**Goofy-4ever- Hey! Thanks for that, haha, here's another chapter then, thank you! **

**Right guys, I hope you like this chapter, if there are any loopholes, please tell me! **

**Signed,**

**The Towel's Rage**


	9. Everywhere

**Everywhere**

Turn it inside out so I can see  
The part of you that's drifting over me  
And when I wake you're, you're never there  
But when I sleep you're, you're everywhere  
You're everywhere

Just tell me how I got this far  
Just tell me why you're here and who you are  
'Cause every time I look  
You're never there  
And every time I sleep  
You're always there

'Cause you're everywhere to me  
And when I close my eyes it's you I see  
You're everything I know  
That makes me believe  
I'm not alone  
I'm not alone

I recognize the way you make me feel  
It's hard to think that  
You might not be real  
I sense it now, the water's getting deep  
I try to wash the pain away from me  
Away from me

'Cause you're everywhere to me  
And when I close my eyes it's you I see  
You're everything I know  
That makes me believe  
I'm not alone  
I'm not alone

I am not alone  
Whoa, oh, ooh, oh

And when I touch your hand  
It's then I understand  
The beauty that's within  
It's now that we begin  
You always light my way  
I hope there never comes a day  
No matter where I go  
I always feel you so

'Cause you're everywhere to me  
And when I close my eyes it's you I see  
You're everything I know  
That makes me believe  
I'm not alone  
'Cause you're everywhere to me  
And when I catch my breath  
It's you I breathe  
You're everything I know  
That makes me believe  
I'm not alone

You're in everyone I see  
So tell me  
Do you see me?

-Michelle Branch

For two nights she had woken up from different beds. Today was no different. She glanced around her sleepily, through crusted lids that showed her a green room, a lush green room, with ornate gold trimmings in the ceiling, in the curtains, even on the bed she slept in. She fingered the fabric fondly. So soft and so comfortable. She had not forgotten where she was, nor why she was there, so she was not surprised to see a young man sleeping calmly next to her. A subtle frown creased the skin between his eyebrows, and he bit on his lower lip, as if he were thinking hard in his sleep. She smiled; he was still as thoughtful in sleep as he was in life. She glanced at the clock, twelve past six in the morning; no wonder the household was silent. She had woken up early, too early.

Absently, she traced out the grooves in his forehead, and her thumb circled the skin slowly. Thinking of something else, she did not pay attention, and she was startled when he abruptly stirred, his lids only cracking open an inch. He made a questioning sound, hazily glanced at her and managed a sheepish smile. Her heart, of its own accord, shuddered to a stop then picked up tenfold. What woman's heart wouldn't when a dashing young man woke up next to her? She was certainly no exception. She shook her head, lips curving up just a little. He shut his eyes once again, and she resumed her calming movements again, and at the same time examining the nightgown she wore. It was too big for her, and the sleeves constantly slipped off her shoulders, yet the design was absolutely breathtaking. It seemed that this household was made to stun others, and it unquestionably doing its job well. Using both hands to scrutinize the pattern, she took her finger off his forehead. He immediately grumbled, and blindly shot out an arm, roped her under her waist, refused to let her go and tugged her down, next to him.

Shaking silently from laughter, she breathed in his scent. Masculine, definitely masculine. As she relaxed next to him, their bodies pressed together, she could feel her heart pounding extravagantly in her ribcage. _Be still, my heart_. He hugged her tightly, and she could feel her half diminished walls completely breaking down. And she thought to herself, wasn't this too fast? Wasn't she throwing herself into a whirlwind fantasy? She warned herself, infatuation only got people hurt or dead. She would not end up like them. She would _never _end up like them. It was dangerous game she was playing, but at that moment, she wanted to live. She wanted to feast her eyes on the only male she could expose her face to. Yes, she wanted to live.

And so, for temporary selfish satisfaction, she flipped around, head to his chest, and the pair soon slept again.

* * *

He was brusquely awakened by a sharp rapping on the door. He started, alert now. Casting a glance at the sleeping form next to him, he carefully stepped out of the bed and stealthily walked towards the door. Pulling it open, he was greeted by the sight of a maid, head bowed down, and cheeks reddening. Her head shot up with shame written all over her plump face.

"I'm so sorry Sir…"she started loudly, apologizing profusely. Her words were like gunshots exploding down the hallways, glancing off the noiseless hallway. He cut her off, finger on his lips, signaling for her to stop. He opened the door a little wider, allowing her to see Deidra curled up on the bed. She pressed a hand to her mouth, and nodded, eyes wide. Then the situation seemed to have dawned on her, for her cheeks and neck slowly turned scarlet, and she cleared her throat. He nearly rolled his eyes; these scullery servants had dirt in their brains all the time. He would have staked his life that the scandalous news would be out by noon.

"Sorry Sir, I just came down to inform you that Sir Jody Coburn is here. He is waiting at the waiting room down the hall." She squeaked, talking to the ground as she dipped her head into her chest. For God's sake woman, speak up! He nodded curtly, and dismissed her with a casual-yet practiced- wave of his hand. Jody was here, good. He had to talk to him urgently.

He slipped back into the room quietly, smiling slightly at the sense of calm that had taken over her, and turned his back to her. Rummaging absentmindedly through his wardrobe, he found a maroon blouse and black pants to put on, and made towards the bathroom to change.

"Corbet?" She murmured drowsily. He winced; the maid must have aroused Deidra with her strident voice.

"Good morning," he greeted her stiffly, unsure of how he should tread. He was uncertain; to treat her like the night allowed them to, would it be too rushed? He smiled a little cautiously, a little hesitantly. She returned it unsurely, but none of them could feel the sense of comfort they shared in the dark, and all was polite and discreet.

"Good morning," she returned, and ducked her head. He could see a deep red flooding her cheeks, and had to bite his own to stop himself from chuckling. He continued on his way to the lavatory, and when he locked himself in, could not help but sigh in relief at the tension that had dissipated. Still, he pulled his mind off Deidra and donned his outfit; there was business to get to.

He exited the bathroom; found that Deidra had already wandered out. Well, she was going to have a hard time convincing the wagging tongues that she wasn't a mistress. He sauntered down the hallway, took a sharp left and found himself in the waiting room. Jody sat on an ornately designed sherry wing chair, his legs spread apart in the stereotypical male stance. His hair was hanging down as he played with the spoon the maid had served tea with. The clinking of metal against china was grating, even after a night of rest. Corbet's soles tapped against the rosewood strips that tiled the floor, and Jody turned around.

"Jody," they exchanged a formal bow before engaging in a quick bear hug. Corbet took his seat in the wing chair next to Jody's and picked up a cup as well.

"Jody what do you know? Would you suspect?" Corbet's question was left hanging in the air, and to an outsider it would have been a mystery, but Jody looked as if he understood every word. Jody took his time deliberating, before finally speaking up.

"Yes…yes I think so. Corbet, you must be careful. When they know she's with you, they'll come after you. They _will_. And if I am not wrong, they have an inside helper, a person who is convenient to spy on you. He or she will probably be on the way now, telling Lady Emma what they know. Lady Emma refuses to tell me who that is, and I cannot advise you." Jody's tone took on a pressing undercurrent.

"So what do you suppose I do? I should have to keep her alive."

"Run. That's the only option. I'll stay here, you run. I'll try to delay her as far as possible, take Deidra to your father's mansion in Kyrria, and get her out of Wolleck. Near the kingdom, Lady Emma wouldn't dare to touch her." Corbet nodded, Jody's plan made sense; a lot of sense.

"When?"

"Today, by nightfall. It seems too soon but you have to get her out of danger quickly. Pick one servant; a trustworthy one. Take few belongings, and then flee." Corbet hated that Jody was ordering him about, but then again, Jody had a clear head and he could rationalize.

"Tonight it is. How then will I-" His sentence was cut off when Deidra came flying into the room, running straight at Jody. Jody stood up immediately, enveloping Deidra in a hug. She laughed and buried her face in his chest. Corbet narrowed his eyes, a green-headed monster rearing its ugly head in his gut. He wanted to snatch Deidra from Jody and claim her as his own.

"Lady Deidra." He nodded curtly. Deidra untangled herself from Jody's hold and curtseyed back, a little disconcerted.

"We have some business to discuss, would you mind taking your leave for a little while?" He looked pointedly at the door, silently warning her that it was not an alternative. She sighed resignedly and drifted out of the waiting room. The two men watched her in silence

"Shall we continue?"

* * *

Deidra felt the suspicion in the air, knew there was something very wrong. Something that involved her and the abrupt stop in conversation when she entered the room only confirmed that. Still, she could only roam around the passageways, until night fell.

Without being fully conscious, she was shaken awake and told to pack a few dresses and gowns. She tried to get an explanation out of anybody, but people remained silent, their faces sympathetic stone.

Corbet came rushing in, telling her there was no time to explain, and told her they had to leave that night. He moved with her down to the servants' quarters and looked at all the help. Pointing to a man in a starched suit, he said, "Butler."

* * *

**A/N: Finally! That one's finished. Well, this one is mainly filler, I'm sure you can tell, but it kind of starts their journey, so yeah, I hope you like it!**

**Baby green eyes: Haha, yeah I was thinking of doing a flashback as well, but that will probably one or two chapters down? Yeah, haha, yeah he likes her, but now it's mostly because of his mother, he wants to feel better, haha. Heehee…you sure you want to strangle me? Because then I can't write anymore. Haha! Review!!**

**Copperflame: Haha, yeah I guess I don't need to, but sometimes the issue of religion is a bit iffy and I thought I'd just put it to be sure. ******** thank you, call me disgusting but I had a little fun writing that bit, haha. I know this chapter's a bit short and you had to wait so long, I APOLOGISE!!!!! Please review again! Haha!**

**Julissa' : Hey! Haha, that's so nice! You came back and reviewed my story immediately touched. Haha! Yeah I know the chapters are really short and this one's no exception, I'm trying to make them longer but sometimes the stop is SO convenient I can't pass it. Haha, the part about Corbet controlling himself will be revealed later, don't worry. It's okay and actually I think I should be thanking you guys for reviewing, for having the patience to! Haha. Please review again, thanks!**

**Thanks for reviewing guys!**

**Signed,**

**The Towel's Rage**


	10. Memories that Haunt Forever

**Memories that Haunt Us Forever**

He was throwing grain into the ground below, ground below  
With dreary circles of his arm, going slow, very slow  
His cap pulled down roun' his ears to  
Hide the smile and watery tears

My loving wife is so wonderful  
How small seeds gracefully to grow  
Into beautiful things that spring from these rows  
With their musical names and musical sound

Dreary birds parade across the dreary sky, but down below  
The woman absent mindedly begins to sow, how she sows the  
Seeds her husband loved so much, but he's no longer  
Here with us

But her life is so beautiful  
As memories continue to grow  
Into beautiful things that spring from these rows  
With their musical names and musical sound  
Beautiful things that spring from these rows  
With their musical names and musical sounds, and musical sounds

Distant tho I am  
Orange, gold, and green  
Firing, flaming, colors surround me  
I'm always wondering where you are.  
I'm always wondering where you are.  
Darling shouldn't I be the one  
Wondering after all I am the one who is gone  
I'm always wondering where you are.  
I'm always wondering where you are.  
Darling shouldn't I be the one  
Wondering after all I am the one who is gone  
I'm always wondering.  
I was just wondering.  
I was just wondering.  
I'm the one...who is gone  
Who is gone

But, there's beautiful things that spring from these rows  
With their musical names, and musical sounds  
Musical sounds

_-Eisley, Memories_

_

* * *

"_Hold on. I said hold on." Deidra firmly planted her feet on the muddy ground, the end of her lilac gown lightly catching the terra dirt. She placed her hand on Corbet's forearm, restricting movement. He impatiently turned around, and glared at her. 

"What?" He asked brusquely. She narrowed her eyes. Gone was the considerate man from the twilight, and here was the sulky, childish remains of him. Still, she had lost her composure one time too many, and she answered his glower with her own defiant stare.

"I want to know what's going on." She answered levelly.

"No. No time. I'll tell you later. But for now, would you care to ride with me or on your own." He turned around and busied himself with tying burlap bags on Apocalypse. Her face burnt scarlet with humiliation. How _dare _he! How _dare _he! To conveniently brush her off, to simply wave away her concerns when she was addressing him! What man, what _boy _would be too insolent to do so? He spun around and saw her furious look. Quirking an eyebrow, he asked.

"No?" A simple word and he swung her up onto the horse standing next to Apocalypse. She sputtered at his nerve, and nearly descended from the whinnying horse, only to slide back up when Corbet shot her a look. Deidra nearly huffed, but she decided she had embarrassed herself enough, and sat regally on the throne of the mighty beast with the air of a distinguished noble. She feigned indifference to his presence though she was seething inside. Little troll. What a little troll.

Butler came to them, holding various bags of wheat and his own little carrier bag. Corbet insisted that they take something to offer people should they meet any. So she had packed three of her gowns, and took a bejeweled clip that was hanging loosely on the dressing table. Maybe those would pacify any imaginary vagrants they met on the way. But then again, on the way to where? Fury built up in her again; should they always _have _to keep information from her? Should they _insist _upon playing the cloak-and-dagger game? Was she just another pawn in their dastardly plans? If they were, they lacked even the simple dignity of telling her so. This stifling _freedom _from _nothing _twisted a loop in her gut, threatening to garrote her with its cloying need. It was almost as if…almost as if she were suffocating on air itself.

Deidra shook her head a little, a half-rueful smile on her face. Had she gone utterly insane? Had she lost her comprehension for thought? For logic? Had she, as the citizens of Frell so eloquently phrased it, lost her marbles? Choking on air? Choking on _air_? It was ridiculous, preposterous even, to think such a thing! This environment must have taken her reason away with her previous life!

Her previous life! Oh God, what to do, what to do? She had caught herself in such a tumultuous flight of imagination that she had forgotten, completely forgotten about Aunt Lana. Oh she must have been in such a state of _frenzy _now! Imagine! Deidra had left her with no note, with no sign of where she went, and now she was about to gallivant off into the sunset without alerting Aunt Lana? Was she that cold-hearted? Could she really flee from her Aunt without a sign? What callous fiend would contemplate such? She struggled to dismount from the whining brute, but Corbet's sharp glare sent her scurrying back up. Yet she was not too intimidated to tell him of her dilemma.

"Corbet! I must go now; I cannot go off with you. My aunt lies at home, most probably paralyzed in fear of what might have happened to me, and I cannot leave her!" Deidra's pride was gone in an instant, her voice a pleading sort of desperation. She would gladly forsake her conceit for her Aunt's peace of mind. She prepared again to clamber down but yet she was deterred by a simple gesture from Corbet.

"I have spoken to your aunt, and she knows that you must go, I am sorry that I have not informed you earlier." He replied shortly, then ceased his generous words of wisdom. She gasped silently, her face flushed with humiliation and vehemence. That _thing, _that absolute _beast _had not told her anything about her aunt! He had kept it quiet, never said a word! How could he simply leave her like that? Without a head or tail of what was going on, without even an _inkling _of the situation at hand! He was a chauvinist, through and through! Had she not _earned _the right to understand? To comprehend? And who was he, that treacherous _fool, _to alert her aunt, her flesh and blood? Then gradually, her antagonism turned to molten mortification. Corbet had thought of Aunt Lana, probably before she had woken up, while she, the disloyal niece, had squandered two days without a thought of her aunt in her head. Oh God, was she really that self-centered? Self-_absorbed_? Could it be that she was even…even…narcissistic?

She ducked her head, mind numb from the realization. She had never imagined that she would come to that sort of conclusion. She had always thought that she was special, too special till she became the Ugly Little Duckling, a mocking irony at her predicament. She had wallowed in self-pity, lashed out at trees, rivers, even animals sometimes, to express her infinite anger and frustration with her situation, with her ailment and sometimes, sometimes even her parents. She had always thought she was born in a curse, one that hung over her, one that would thus allow her to cry and scream because she deserved a little happiness. Now, she found, now she found she was egotistical. Had she been living in her own little universe, where the planets, the moon maybe even the Sun revolved around her every need? Could that be her? She came to question her morals, her values, the very core of her soul. And she was afraid. She really was. She tried thinking of when she had thought of someone else's need. Flashes of memory flitted in and out of her mind, and she knew, she knew she would have to face the devils of her past.

_She was __barely more than four, learning words that would make her giggle._

"_Mama! Mama! Where are you __**going**__! I wanna play dolls with you!" She screamed for her mother, as a strange lady picked her up roughly, and Deidra was afraid. This lady had rough hands, and a strong face, what Mama called the Handsome Face. She looked like one of the Poor Things that could not buy dollies for their children. If the Poor Thing had not been carrying her now, Deidra would have felt sorry for her, and maybe lent her precious Annabelle to the Poor Thing's child. But she was squirming in the lady's firm grip, and stopping her from going to her Mama. Mama stood in front, a mouth clapped over her mouth, and Deidra could see the tears rolling out of her eyes. Why was Mama crying? Mama wasn't supposed to cry! Mama was supposed to make __**her **__stop crying and let her play with Annabelle and Anneliese! Deidra shrieked even louder. _

"_Mama! Mama! I don't like the lady! I want to go home! I don't want to go on hol-holiday, Mama! I don't like this holiday! I want to go home!" She kicked furiously at the lady's shins, and she tried running to her Mama. Her Mama just took a step back, wrenching sobs escaping from her. Tears now dripped freely from her fingers clasped over her mouth, and onto the white fur jacket Deidra loved running her hair through. It trickled down, slowly, so slowly at first, onto Mama's legs, and onto the furry white boots Mama wore. She looked up into Mama's eyes again, and saw the unfathomable pain reflected in her own orbs. Deidra knew it was not a game anymore, not a holiday anymore. Something was happening, something her Mama could not help. Deidra started to panic; this wasn't right, her Mama could solve __**everything**_

"_Mama? Mama..." Little Deidra's voice was but a whimper, a tiny plea from child to mother. _

"_Mama I love you, I pwomise you I won't scream for Papa anymore, I'll walk properly Mama, I'll wear my dresses. I won't bother Mandy for carrot soup. Please Mama, I don't want to go on holiday…"Her voice ended on a wobbly high note, dangerously close to bursting in tears. She looked trustingly at her mother though; she knew her Mama knew she really would try. _

"_Sorry, baby, I'm so-so sorry. Maybe another time okay? I promise-I promise you'll like this holiday." Her mother drew a deep breath, sucking in the air in a loud hiccup. _

_And then she fled. _

Caught up in the drama of her past, she barely noticed what was going on around her, just a bustle of noise and colors, and a warm chest that she rested her head on. A very familiar warm chest. She nearly smiled, Corbet was there with her. With confidence, she delved back into memories.

_"Aunt Lana? Can I go play ball with other people?"_

_"Child! Did you wander out from here?" Aunt Lana whirled on a frightened Deidra her face glowing with shocked rage and panic._

_"I didn't, I didn't! I just saw them through the bushes!" She denied the accusation zealously. Aunt Lana sighed in relief, and squatted down to her level._

_"No child, you cannot. Come, you come and help me chop these vegetables."_

_"But I don't __**want **__to! I want to __**play **__with the other children! You never let me play with them! It's not __**fair**__! I don't care what you say, I'm going to play ball with them!" She stomped her foot with emphasis and marched out of the kitchen. With her dirty nose in the air, Young Deidra failed to see the blind terror on Aunt Lana's face, and all Deidra could hear was the footsteps behind her. Thinking it was a game, Deidra giggled and sprinted away from Aunt Lana, who welded a chopping knife. It was fun for her; finally Aunt Lana would play a game with her! _

_Still, as she neared the group of children and mothers, Aunt Lana caught up from behind, and spun Deidra around. Deidra knew she had made a horrible mistake. Aunt Lana's face was livid and scarlet with fury. Deidra was dragged by her ear to the small cottage they owned, before being flung onto the ground. The pain was stinging her, smarting terribly. She begged Aunt Lana to stop, but Aunt Lana continued to beat her, front and back, front and back. She screamed and yelled, whimpered and cried, but the hitting went on and on, never stopping. Finally, she didn't hear the ringing sound of a hand hitting her, but instead a silence filled with heavy breathing. Aunt Lana was done._

_"What did I tell you about playing with other children? Did I not warn you that you were not to? Did you think you could disobey me and get away with it?" A note of malice spiked in Aunt Lana's tone, her volume rising unprecedented. Deidra nearly whimpered, but knew it would only fuel Aunt Lana's intense spite. She kept silent, rigid on the wooden floor, watched blindly as ants skittered past her face and into her hair. Biting back a sob, she covered her face with her hands._

_"I told you, child, you are different. You cannot be seen, ever. Do you understand what could happen if you did?" Aunt Lana asked, and now her tenor changed, a pinch of concern, a pinch of panic and eagerness to make an insubordinate child behave. _

_"Yes Aunt Lana. I do." Deidra replied steadily, forcing out the thick ball of pain lodged precariously in her throat. She could not seem weak; her Aunt never approved of the weak. Nor the misunderstood. _

_"Do you __**really**__?" Aunt Lana pressed further. She had to make sure that this child fresh of seven, knew the urgency and weight of her message. _

_"Yes." A monosyllabic answer. It was one of confidence, and Aunt Lana was assured, at least for the interim. _

_"Then go. Go change into a clean dress, and then help me with these carrots." Aunt Lana's voice was subdued, and Deidra could hear the hurting reprieve in her voice. Her stomach and little arms throbbing, Deidra slowly picked herself up, making sure she didn't wince, and hobbled towards the bathroom. She would show Aunt Lana, she vowed, that she was a strong girl. _

The onslaught of memoirs had exhausted her resolve to stay angry, and she sighed and leant back, and closed her eyes. It was not so much the reminiscences themselves, but it was the double-edged anguish and elation she felt. Elation? One might ask. Elation; she would treasure her memories, the few that they were.

"Corbet?" She could feel her lips were cracked, could taste the salty tears dried up.

"Yes?" His voice wavered; the horse's jolting movement carried them up and down.

"Please tell me where are we going?"

"Do you want to know now? Is it a good time?"

"Never a better time. Never."

* * *

**A/N: Hey! I know, two months break and stuff and I **_**really **_**apologize, I have no excuse for it, but I updated! Haha, thank for the reviews and I hope you will be patient with me!**

**Write in; tell me, do you want to know too? Or shall thou prolong it? **


	11. When dawning will not fail

Now, where you going?  
Now, what's the rush?  
You listen here  
No, you just hush  
I know what you think  
That man don't know anything  
But I've been around a while  
I know what's happening

Everybody wanna check you out  
Everybody wanna be your friend  
And all this pressure  
Where do I fit in?  
They don't know nothin' you don't know  
Ain't got nothing you ain't got  
But you keep on runnin', you keep on runnin' with the

Fast company  
Fast company  
You're going nowhere, you're going nowhere fast  
Fast company  
Fast company  
You're going nowhere, you're going nowhere fast

Now it's alright  
To have some fun  
This is your turn  
Your life has just begun  
You're racin' out the door  
Don't have very much to say  
Your motor's runnin' hot  
You can't wait to get away

Lookin' up the road ahead  
You can't see very far  
Remember where you come from  
Remember who you are  
Be careful what you say  
Be careful who you trust  
This world is beautiful  
This world is dangerous

Fast company  
Fast company  
You're going nowhere, you're going nowhere fast  
Fast company  
Fast company  
You're going nowhere, you're going nowhere...

Talk to me and help me try to remember  
How it feels to be so in doubt  
Turn to me and help me try to remember  
That ragin' fire that the years put out

Fast company  
Fast company  
You're going nowhere, you're going nowhere fast  
Fast company  
Fast company  
You're going nowhere, you're going nowhere fast  
- The Eagles, Fast Company

He sighed, she noticed. The first thing he did was sigh. Then he gripped her tighter, closer, rested his chin on the top of her head in an act of unnatural affection.

"I…I do not quite know where to start." He breathed deeply, before plunging into monologue again.

"Lady Emma is a foe. She does not want you around; she wants you, if I daresay, dead." At this point, Deidra fervently tried to interrupt, yet Corbet raised his hand, silencing her. It still amazed her, his power. "Let me finish, I ask of you. The reasons remain indistinct, yet I have a suspicion that you might have stirred up lust in her husband. Lady Emma is a spiteful woman. Her marriage has been failing miserably, her husband drifting away. Society has frowned upon her and she is _desperate _to find a way to remedy it. Since she has first-hand seen the interaction between you and her husband," he quieted her adamant protests here, "in spite of how meager they are, and because Sir Thomas, her husband, has insofar kept his wandering liaisons discreet, she chooses you as the culprit. She blames _you _for ruining her husband." Corbet stopped for a moment, and she pounced on the opportunity to jump in.

"But that's absurd! I have barely known him but for a day, spared him not a single glance nor exchanged a word with him! How would she then accuse me of this…this _indecency_!" She spouted, furious. Corbet immediately clapped a hand on her rapidly working mouth. Muffled dissents were the only noises. Butler glanced tactfully at the pair, subtly alerting Corbet to the situation's dire circumstances. Were they heard at the witch's hour, and traveling on horseback, rumors would spread. Rumors, which would not be feasible.

"Hush. Do you not realize what will happen if someone happened to hear you? Lady Deidra, let me remind you, Lady Emma is not rational now. Do you understand? She only wishes to avenge her own downfall, should it be possible. She neither loves nor cares for her husband, it being the poison that pushed Sir Thomas away, but she needs to salvage the rest of her reputation." He hesitated for a moment, before continuing uncertainly. "No lady should hear this, but there is hearsay that she cannot please him in bed, which drives him away. She is desperate. Desperate, Lady Deidra, and desperation conquers all lucidity. There is no why, nor a how. There is only a what. Now would you allow me to continue?"

Defeated, Deidra slumped back against his chest again, and – heart pounding – slowly nestled into the warmth. Her anxiety instantaneously calmed a little, and she could fee her breath exit in even strokes. Without thinking, Corbet hugged her closer and took her gestures as assent.

"Jody and I have suspected what Lady Emma is planning. It would not do to humiliate you. It would only serve as proof that she is unsound, and empathy would be stirred for Sir Thomas. No, degradation is not enough. Neither will she kidnap you, for what would she do after that? She knows no one to pay a ransom, plus it would not help her cause. She wants you dead. She wants you murdered in cold blood. She will pin the blame on Sir Thomas, and then perhaps accuse him of ill-treating her too. Her position in society will be regained, her husband shamed and stoned to death. It is her goal. What I cannot understand, however, is that the boy is dead. Why would she want him dead? A warning to you? Perhaps a misunderstanding of loyalty? Could it be that he was a spy? If so, then who really murdered him? One dedicated to us, or her? I cannot understand!" Corbet ran his fingers through golden hair, frustrated to no end. She placed a calming hand on him, rubbed circles on it comfortingly, as she had the night previous. Slowly, he regained his composure, and shot her a weak smile.

"What I do know, is that it has been an inside job. Someone in this household has exposed us. She _knows _that you are here. Why else would she monitor us so strictly? Lady Deidra, this is why the three of us are here. We will cut off all contact with the rest of the world. Only Jody would know where we are headed."

"And where are we headed?"

"Frell, to the king and queen." **(A/N: This would have been the perfect cliffhanger, but since I've been naughty and have not updated in ages, I continued for fear of getting ambushed.)**

Deidra's eyes widened and she shot upright, her hair whipping into his face as she whirled around to stare at him in horror.

"_Frell_? Sir Corbet, you are surely jesting! To the king and queen? Is this some sort of elaborate plan to humble me? Is this a mean-spirited attempt to mortify me? Because if it is, I will not stand for it!" Her terror morphed into antagonism, and she fought to jump off Apocalypse. Corbet closed his arms around her, and held her in place. She resisted an ill-timed shiver as he spoke in her ear.

"Lady Deidra, do not jump to hasty conclusions. Should we have the free time to dangle you sadistically in front of your parents, I assure you, we would not be on this dirt path at the dead of night. We bring you to Frell because it is the safest place. Next to the king and queen, nothing gets past their eyes, and guards are stationed at every five foot intervals at my manor. Do you understand?" The chilled edge in his voice unsettled her ,and she nodded, looking away. Deidra glanced at him timidly, doubt marring her features.

She hung her head in defeat. She never saw the apologetic look on Corbet's face. Nor did he see the scheming gaze of Butler.

**A/N: Hey people! I am so sorry…this is really really bad planning right? Anyway, I would love to hear from you. This is so short because it's pure explanation, and it's my way of telling you that even if I've got huge exams and practices and things to do, I will not give up on this story. Neither will I give up on you people. To the people who'd still bother to read this, cheers. This is for you. If you keep pushing me, I'll try to update a lot. **

**Signed,**

**The Towel's Rage**


	12. Silent Dancing Night

**Silent Dancing Night**

I raced along an empty highway.  
I chased the dawn  
And cursed the new day,  
Out of town, till nobody was around.

Love came along, my favorite enemy,  
We hit head-on.  
Why you befriended me... I don't know.  
There's no need for letting go  
When you've already lost control.

My life is open wide  
The more you live, the less you will die.  
Outside, floating free,  
I'm finally open to see...  
Could you be any more comfort to me?

Could you be...

You've figured out the warnings  
And the reasons why,  
You smoothed me out.  
I hope you know there's nothing  
I could give,  
For showing me how to live.

I don't know how  
But you know just how I feel.  
Sticking out,  
Like a dark horse in a snow white field.  
Stirred up by the breeze,  
Strong but not at peace,  
Free but unreleased.

My life is open wide  
The more you live, the less you will die.  
Outside, floating free,  
I'm finally open to see...  
Could you be any more comfort to me?  
Could you be any more comfort to me?

Caught up inside, all I wanna be...  
Try to survive, all alone,  
Outside your company.

Could you be any more comfort to me?  
Could you be any more comfort to me

– _Comfort, Carbon Leaf_

**A/N: Hey guys sheepish grin I know, I know, I am so sorry for posting so late, but you guys should know by now that my schedule isn't quite…consistent. Haha, but thank you again so **_**much **_**for not giving up on me. I really liked the lyrics of the song I put here, I thought it was so appropriate, yeah? Haha, anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter! Review…please?? ******

**Signed, **

**The Towel's Rage**

It had been barely two hours since silence had settled into the trio, an uninterrupted, pregnant silence that spoke of caution and uncertainty. Deidra trudged along miserably with a heavy brooding thought pressing down on her. Cynical and wry, yet heavy.

It was her first flight out of Wolleck, and how unfortunate that all its grandeur had been stolen. Her journey was not one of mighty horses and dashing knights she could boast of, nor one of pretty crimson dresses draped lavishly with pearls and her hair in curls. No, instead it was a solemn affair of strange haunting sounds and an oppressive stillness to the night.

She sighed, and picked up the ends of the pale purple gown she wore. Corbet had insisted that they walk along, instead of riding, so they would not exhaust the mares. Her skirt was trailing in the dirt, and that was no good. She had four dresses, to last for days; no, she could not afford to soil them.

The sheen on lilac that caught the moonlight drew Corbet's attention, and he turned to look at the girl beside him, trying not to drag her feet as she patiently wore on. His heart softened for her; she was so young. She looked barely eighteen, not old enough to be taking on the weariness of the world. Young, sweet Deidra no more. He saw the looks of determination that flashed through her face every time she stumbled in the mud, the way she swayed a little every time she clambered over another root.

He admired her, though he would never admit it. These two days had shown him nearly every side to the forbidden beauty she held. Long after she fell asleep last night, he had stayed up, and with almost mind-blowing clarity, he realized the strength she possessed to have made it this far. How could a person stay so lonely for so long? No one to talk to, to confide in? A little shack where she slaved away, a foreboding aunt who loved her, but refused to mollycoddle her, and most of all the _knowledge_ that she would forever live alone.

She would never wed, never have friends, subjected to the cruel torment of drowning emptiness in her life. Still, she persevered and carried on, like she never noticed. And yet, below that portico of harsh vigor stood a trembling figure, filled with vulnerability and doubt. It was a tiny girl, a small cowering spirit that was in need of so much nursing. He would help her, he would never neglect someone so desperately crying out for love, but he could not do it out right.

* * *

The forest was quiet. Too quiet. Yet strangely, so full of subtle, passing noises that caught Dei's attention. The rustle of a leaf as a mother bird nestled her chick closer. The sudden hoot of a stray owl. She could feel silent eyes stalking her every move, her every breath. She nearly laughed; how else could eyes ever be? The crunch of feet on the moist soil, the clip-clop of horses' hooves. Dei shivered; she would be lying if she claimed she weren't afraid. The night was no time for bravado.

Hoping that the stoic Corbet wouldn't notice, she inched closer and closer to him, till she nearly bumped shoulders with him. The warmth that he radiated was just enough for Dei to let loose a shuddering breath, and relax a little. He turned to her curiously, and raised an eyebrow. She cleared her throat, a little embarrassed, and looked away. She did not move away. A moment later, she felt him shrug, and turn to the front again. IF she weren't mistaken, she saw him step a minute step closer to her. She smiled to herself, but feigned ignorance.

So silently they drifted through the shadowed trees and hallowed mounds of fresh dirt. She marveled at the way an oak's bark roughly cut up the shining moonlight into tiny, shattered fragments. With a constant companion an arm's reach away, she started to tentatively explore the terrain with her inexperienced eyes. For too long, Dei had only seen those uniform, sorrowful willows sprouting up, a raw and unpolished plot of dust and dirt with a few chickens squawking indignantly and a tiny cottage with not more than two ancient beds carved meticulously out of mahogany, a kitchen with a small stove, and a solitary toilet. She remembered her aunt bustling out of the house every morning for a chunk of meat or, if they were fortunate enough, two. Tuesdays were for cheese, Thursdays for bread.

What a simple life it used to be, the tranquil routine Dei had so abhorred, but now longingly yearned for. Now, she had to deal with a volatile man, and impenetrable butler, a psychopath out for bloodthirsty vengeance, and the horrid robes! She yanked them upwards a little, then released them, scowling at the fabrics. She thought she heard Corbet laugh through his nose, but when she whipped him to face him, she was greeted by the side profile of his usual impassive face.

Knowing that he was unobtrusively watching her, she playfully wrinkled her nose at him. This time, she caught the side of his eye crinkle up slightly and she couldn't help it any longer. She beamed at him, and was rewarded when he ducked his head, just a tiny bit shy. Dei glanced at Corbet with awe. She could stare at him all day, the broad shoulders, the sturdy hips which tapered down to two delectable legs. And his face, oh! His face! Just barely sprinkled with a smattering of dark chocolate freckles, the Cupid bow lips and those mesmerizing green eyes. The faint flush of red that now danced across his cheeks was her undoing, and she wondered what it would be like to trail a finger down his cheekbone, to feel for just a second what his…

Dei was wrenched from her thoughts as a loud stampede of hooves charged towards her, and a flash of brown and white whirled by. She let out a yelp of fright, and in her panic, burrowed her head in Corbet's chest, refusing to look up long after the angry screeches of disturbed birds ceased, and the not wholly unpleasant rumbling of Corbet's chest subsided. Dei wasn't afraid anymore; oh no, nothing like that, she was _humiliated_.

She wondered how long she could stay there, and received her answer when the pad of a thumb started to gently lift her chin up. Reluctantly, she yanked her face out and immediately saw an amused smirk playing on Corbet's lips. Burning with embarrassment, she attempted to put as much distance between the both of them, but a warm hand wouldn't let her. She looked at Corbet, only to see him staring nonchalantly forward, swinging both their arms. She squirmed for a moment, but played along, finally relaxing enough to intertwine her hands with his.

She could feel each finger of his, and her heart thumped at the elegant slenderness of each one. They were aristocratic hands, hands made for beautifully whittled instruments, and for white silk gloves. She peeked at their hands again, giddy with the proximity and intimacy of his gestures, her heart soaring for just a second, before plunging back down. Her hands were completely enveloped by his, but she knew exactly what they looked like. Long, but hardened with muscles, her palms rough and dry where his were smooth and soft, hers scoured with the work of a sixteen year servant, his untainted and untouched by the burning solvents she would never wish upon him.

It was at that moment that she felt a lifetime's worth of shame rush into her body. No, she wasn't suited for him. He belonged to the upper echelons of society, the crust of the bread. He needed to be dancing with young, graceful maidens at masquerade balls, charming and unbothered by the worldly problems of people like her. Those young maidens, pretty, free, and most importantly, rich enough to deserve him.

Dei, symbolically exiled from her kingdom, was no match for the enchanting ladies of the elite community. She sighed inaudibly, before wistfully shooting their hands one last glance. If only. She wouldn't let go now, though, not to see his puzzled face looking at her. She quietly admitted to herself that she liked the feel of her hand in his as well. For now, she would play along. Just – just for a little while.

And so the party of three continued to trudge through the dense woods, without a single word passing between them. One, with calculated indifference, musing about the ways to squander the fee he would soon collect. Another, leaden with such self-pity and shame that her spirit nearly broke with the realization. And the last, with quiet delight, treasuring the work-worn yet delicate hand he had been waiting to hold.

Corbet stole a glance at Dei, noticing the faraway look on her face. His heart melted a little more. It must have been hard for her, to be ripped away from her peaceful lifestyle, only to be dropped forcefully into the lap of chaos. He knew that beyond the hard and confident mask she struggled so hard to put on, inside her lay a lonely woman, aching and bruised from all the rejection that had started so early on in life. Her parents, then her aunt, who never quite understood her need for company. He had discovered this when he visited her aunt that morning. Her concern and love for her young niece clearly shone through, but within a few short minutes, Corbet found her cloistering and suffocating with her gruff impatience and tenacity. He was so determined to mend Deidra, but he would do it slowly. One piece at a time.

* * *

"I think we traveled enough tonight. Let us halt our journey." Corbet softly broached the silence, giving Dei's hand a final squeeze before reaching up to untie the wooden poles and sheets of linen and canvas from the horse. Butler immediately sauntered forward, and soon, they had two tents set up, both with sheets of linen across the ground. Tying the horses to the nearest tree, Corbet dismissed Butler for the night, and entered one of the tents himself. Making sure that all was well in the tent, he stepped back out into the chilly night air once more, beckoning to a hesitant Dei. She slowly entered the dark tent, before he joined her too. She huddled in a corner, and Corbet was struck by the impropriety of it all.

"I will not bite, Lady. Rest assured I will keep to my part of these temporary conditions." He stated as a matter of fact, before sliding down and, crossing his arms across his chest, closes his eyes for sleep. He fervently hoped that Dei would lie down too…

He never found out, for he slept instantly, but he came to find that she did, in fact, lie down. It was a deduction made exactly and hour and a half after he so graciously drifted into slumber, for there was a mane of hair that insistently tossed side to side, as he blearily watched on. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Corbet drowsily reached out to still her. Shifting for a bit, Dei finally calmed down, and Corbet smiled gratefully. Just as he fell victim to the Sandman once again, he felt a body timidly pressed to his side. Clutching her at the waist, both fell asleep in a tight embrace.

Neither woke up again that night.


	13. Who I Am

**Who I Am**

Gone

Look at all those fancy clothes,  
But these could keep us warm just like those.  
And what about your soul? Is it cold?  
Is it straight from the mold, and ready to be sold?

And cars and phones and diamond rings,  
Bling, bling, because those are only removable things.  
And what about your mind? Does it shine?  
Are there things that concern you, more than your time?

Gone, going.  
Gone, everything.  
Gone, don't give a damn.  
Gone, be the birds, when they don't wanna sing.  
Gone, people, all awkward with their things,  
Gone.

Look at you, out to make a deal.  
You try to be appealing, but you lose your appeal.  
And what about those shoes you're in today?  
They'll do no good, on the bridges you burnt along the way.

And you're willing to sell, anything?  
Gone, with your head.  
Leave your footprints,  
And we'll shame them with our words.  
Gone, people, all careless and consumed, gone

Gone, gone, gone, everything.  
Gone, don't give a damn.  
Gone, be the birds, when they don't wanna sing.  
Gone, people, all awkward with their things, Gone.

Gone, Jack Johnson

* * *

The next few days passed slowly, in a never-ending haze of trudging and stopping for short breaks, and by the time the fourth day dawned bright and early, Dei could feel the grit clinging insistently to her long hair, and the little grains of sand lodged just under her fingernails. She felt dirty. Even Butler, usually so composed and stoic, didn't escape the trail's wrath, for the cake of mud on his boots and the disarray of his hair was evidence enough. The only man who conveniently slinked past the grime was dear Corbet, looking unfairly fresh for a man who hadn't taken a shower in a few days.

Dei sneaked yet another glance at him, and smiled softly. He had taken care of her, in those long, wearisome days. Always watching out for her, always standing before her, making sure nothing came her way. Always holding her close at night. She didn't particularly like the fact that the two _big strong _men were treating her like a simple damsel in distress, yet she found it slightly endearing of the green-eyed Corbet, what with his apparent fascination to be the knight in shining armor. It was the little acts which made her so vulnerable to fits of giggles that convinced her to let Corbet continue treating her like a delicate little petal.

He would clear his throat (he would always clear his throat, before doing something undoubtedly chivalrous), rub his nose slightly, and plunge into the act with a tiny hint of a blush lingering on his cheeks. Once, seeing how bothered she was with the dirtied hem of her dress, he'd disappeared out of the tent for the longest of times, before returning half an hour later, heaving a huge tin pail of water and gruffly pushing it towards her, before quickly darting outside again. She never mentioned how clothes would be impossible to wash without a bar of soap, or that she would shiver the whole night in a wet gown; the proud look battling with sheepish embarrassment was enough to stop her in her tracks.

She, in return, would let a tiny smile touch her dry lips and long to reach out for the man who seemed so far, far away. They got on well, they found, after a little while. Many might find it queer, but the two rarely needed words to communicate with each other. Looks and subtle yearning touches would do the trick, as the two danced their peculiar dance. He would tap her hand lightly, and she would immediately nod, dragging another loaf of bread off the horses, or turn around to let him undress. Frequently, while clearing leaves from their path, or setting up wood for a tiny fire, the two would catch each others' eye, and burst out into a quick repartee, or a round of laughter.

Soon, the tense, almost frigid Corbet relaxed, his shoulders as slack as they could get on a well built, lean man. His lips curved upwards more, an almost tangible smile that seemed to light up his face almost all of the time. Should it not be a smile, it would be an amused smirk at Dei's antics, for only Dei could make him laugh. His eyes spoke of a strange mixture of exasperation and fondness most of the time.

And Dei. Oh, Dei was no more the tiny child wearing the mask of a social debutante. On her cheeks lay a warm glow and a certain contentment in her eyes. Her pretty, aristocrat nose, once turned to the sky, now dipped not in shame, but in honest camaraderie with Corbet. She let herself loose as she had never done before, as Aunt Lana had never let her. It seemed that it would mystify her for eternity, but somehow a cool, stoic man had healed her broken wings and let her fly. She joked as she never did before, and when she made a fool of herself, she no longer blushed and stammered, nor snapped close, but instead laughed along with Corbet.

The only thing that upset Dei was the protection with which Corbet guarded her. Even in the middle of a blossoming friendship and the freeing of her soul, she had not forgotten the strings that tugged her back to the earth – her curse. She knew Butler should not be able to look at her like a normal woman. She knew Corbet should not be able to touch her without writhing in a frenzy of pleasure. But he could. But they could. And every time Dei would question Corbet on the matter, he would simply shake his head warningly, tell her that it was not required that she should know, and change the subject hastily.

She knew that her curse drove Corbet and Butler to wake up early in the morning, and dally by the fire. She knew that it caused them to stop the long journey to Frell at about noon every day, and disappear into the bushes for not more than a few minutes. This had prompted many rounds of sarcastic remarks of clandestine nature and temper tantrums, although Dei could not resist the apologetic look that Corbet directed at her, filled with a desperate need of his for her to tolerate it with no questions, and every time she found herself rolling her eyes but returning to walking companionably next to Corbet, her heart thumping all the time in excitement and affection.

Ah yes. That was also growing to be an enormous problem. It seemed that her body did not particularly obey her mind's commands. Every time she ventured close to Corbet, the mix of his masculine scent and bare earth was enough to make her hands break out into cold sweat, and occasionally she would have to hide her hands behind her back, despite the odd looks she received from a bemused Corbet. For some unfathomable reason, she found herself inching as close as she could get to Corbet, bumping into him clumsily or tripping over her own feet, which would undoubtedly cause Corbet to break out in guffaws that had her pretending to be upset with him, while hiding a secret beam and blush at the way his face turned beautiful when he laughed.

These thoughts rioted against the stirring of feelings she already had for Jody, the innocent boy, not yet a man, who made her feel like the sky was a little brighter, the world a little better. She could still remember clinging to him, and the immediate sense of comfort and concern she felt for him, from the moment she saw him. Even now, she was awed by the way she had willingly gone with him even if she had spoken less than two words to him. Oh, what to do?

Now, as she contemplated these strange, wandering thoughts, she clambered through trees and rocks, not bothering to wait for Corbet, as she tried to sort out her feelings. She absentmindedly left them behind, and picked up fallen twigs and flowers, tucking the undamaged petals into her long dark hair, and carving her name into soft-barked trees. She giggled a little when a squirrel scampered playfully past her and leapt after its companion which had scurried by just a few seconds ago. Sighing, she accidentally dropped the twig she held in her hand, and as she bent to pick it up, she noticed a small trail that diverged from the main dirt path they were travelling on.

Looking back, she saw that Corbet and company had not yet noticed where she was, Butler lost in his own world yet again, and Corbet patting Apocalypse. She grinned, and slipped onto the trail, hiding behind a tree as she watched them approach. Dei disregarded all the safety rot that Corbet had drilled into her mind. So far, they had been in the forest for 4 days and the greatest danger that had threatened them was a mother boar which had caught sight of Dei cuddling one of her babies. A handful of bread soon dispelled the threat. Clamping a hand over her mouth as Corbet stopped in confusion and looked around for her, Dei eyes twinkled in mirth.

"Dei?"

Knowing that he would soon find her, she tiptoed away from the tree and noiselessly dashed down the path.

"DEI? Where are you?" He yelled once more.

By now, she was already far away enough to observe him without getting caught, and she exploded in a fit of laughter even as she ran. Turning backwards, she watched him as she raced straight ahead, and failed to notice the small rabbit hole in front of her.

There was a sickening crunch as her right foot twisted painfully, and she let out a violent shriek that tore through the trees. Corbet whirled around in a panic, and spotted the trail. He was already too late though, as Dei went sailing in the air, straight at a tree.

The only glimpse of Dei Corbet caught was of her plummeting head first into a tree.

* * *

For a few seconds, all she saw was black, before her hazy vision returned to normal, and there she blinked dazedly. Certainly she must have hit her head extremely hard, for she saw not clusters of trees that towered above her, but instead a cave-like ambience, with tall, ethereal candles swirling in a flurry of motion right above her head. Dei trembled as she rose to her feet, and gasped in disbelief as a swarm of winged creatures descended upon her. She spun around, and came face to face with one of them. It stared right at her inquisitively, its wings twitching with every breath it took. Dei corrected herself; perhaps it was a she, for she had extremely feminine features. A pert nose, long flowing hair, and from her wings flowed a trail of shimmering glitter. She smiled tentatively at the creature.

To her immense surprise, the creature spoke carefully.

"What might be your name? I am Fey Kenai, daughter of the Prince. Where are you from?"

"The Prince? I- I am Deidra, or Dei. I was in the woods one moment ago, and…and…and…" She stumbled helplessly, as the fays erupted into a mess of tangled and garbled words. Dei wrung her hands; fays? What were those? Would they harm her? All she wished for now was the comfort and security of Corbet.

"Father!" Kenai gasped all of a sudden, and the entire congregation of fays dropped into a deep bow, as a regal looking man approached them. Feeling awkward, Dei bowed her head as well, while warily keeping her gaze on the fey's eyes. He stared right back at her, blinking slowly as he circled.

"And who may you be?" He whispered, the words ricocheting about the cave.

"D-Dei," she stuttered, glancing at Kenai, wordlessly pleading for her help. Kenai only avoided her gaze, choosing instead to keep her eyes on the ground as her wings quivering violently.

"And where do you hail from?" His words were a strange mixture of harsh, guttural exaggerations of consonants and smooth, flowing vowels, all the while concealing a steely tone behind.

"Wolleck."

The fays immediately burst into muted chatter, but at once fell silent when the Prince held up a hand warningly and shot them all a cautionary glare.

"What business would you have with the Fays of Kyrria?"

"I mean no harm, sir, I was in the woods and managed to trip. I remember seeing a tree, before I landed here, and that is all I know," she muttered. She felt his eyes probing at her, and felt a cold, spreading feeling envelop her, before the Prince blinked and turned to the fays kneeling.

"She speaks the truth. Kenai, prepare her for dinner." He strode off, and all fays pressed the heel of their palm to their forehead till he left the cave, before fluttering up around her, and babbling wildly. Dei slowly stepped away from them, heart laden with panic. Dinner? Prepare her? What was she supposed to do? She had no need for dinner. In fact, it was barely noon when she was in the woods. She tried to stop her fingers from shaking, as she fought the urge to cry for Corbet. Oh Corbet! What a stupid, stupid thing for her to have done! Had he not warned her about the oddities that lurked in the forest? Stupid, stupid her!

A light tap on her shoulder had Dei looking behind her. A fey decked in a dazzling aquamarine tunic beckoned to her silently, placing a finger on his lips. Dei frowned; could she trust this fey? It seemed like she had no choice, for no one else seemed to have moved, all content to whisper to each other. Belatedly, Dei realized that theses fays were not affected by her curse, and immediately sighed in relief. The fey held her hand, and tugged her in the direction of another cave. She followed him hesitantly, heart pounding all the while.

Trying to keep a track of where they were heading in case she had to escape, Dei found that it was impossible to navigate through the caves herself, as she staggered numbly, depending on the silent fey leading her around, past caves illuminated by strange green lights, through caves with haunting voices, even caves with pure water cascading down from a massive boulder. They had walked till her feet ached, before they came to a stop before a rock face. The fey rested his hand against the rock, and it slid open to reveal a room filled with dangling crystals.

"This is your room." A voice spoke behind Dei, and she twisted around to find Kenai.

"How…how did you get here?" Dei gaped at Kenai, who smiled gently.

"How does not matter, for I am here. This fey is Lenz, my manservant. He cannot speak. You will not fault him for that." She stared coolly into Dei's eyes, and for a moment, Dei could see the similarity between Kenai and her father. Lenz placed a hand on Kenai's shoulder, who turned to him, eyes softening. Dei hid a smile and nodded; the two seemed to be very much in love.

"When my father says that I should prepare you for dinner, he does not mean I should attend to your attire, it means that I should have to tell you a little about the mannerisms we should observe during this ceremony."

Ceremony? Dinner with Aunt Lana was a simple affair of banging down a plate of bread, butter and perhaps a little chicken on the wooden table. Undoubtedly, these fays had a different idea of dinner. Kenai resumed talking once again.

"My father sits to the right of the Queen, who sits at the head of the table. The Queen is my mother. On the left of the Queen is myself, then many rows of servants in order of rank. You should never talk to anyone below your rank, unless you are spoken to. For example, I sit on the left of the Queen. I may talk to Lenz, who sits beside me, but not to the Queen. You may not talk to anyone other than to the person sitting next to you. It is considered uncouth and unacceptable to raise your voice above a whisper at the dinner table. Should you have to ask another fey a question, you will have to wait for the Silence to do so."

"The rules are not too complicated. The Silence is 60 counts long, where the Queen will take a moment to talk to her advisors on the state of the food, while the rest of the fays are allowed to rise and talk to each other," Kenai hastily added, seeing Dei's look of absolute bewilderment.

"Who came up with these rules?"

"The Queen. My mother," Kenai's voice grew wistful. "There was a time where the Queen was a true mother, one who would laugh and play with her children, chasing them around the caves and singing us lullabies when we grew tired. And then Ky, my youngest brother, died when he was 4, when one of the servant fays rebelled against the Queen and chose to harm Ky. The Queen was so distraught that she forbid any of us to talk to the servants, which was why Lenz was assigned to me. She refused to allow servants to talk freely with each other, afraid that they would come up with more schemes. She made sure everyone feared her, and the Prince. Even her children." Kenai ended off in a whisper.

Dei touched her shoulder, and Kenai sighed.

"Ky was Life. Every fey in the royal bloodline has a gift. Ky's was life. He could breathe energy into anyone, make them feel alive. And then he died, and the kingdom died with him. My father, the Prince, he grew withdrawn and silent. Not bitter the way the Queen did, but silent. Ky was his favorite child, everyone knew that." As Kenai bit her lip and her eyes started to fill with tears, Lenz moved forward, shielding the girl from Dei.

Then suddenly, a loud clanging noise resounded around the caves. Kenai ripped herself out of Lenz's embrace, alarm in her eyes.

"Dinner's ready."

* * *

**A/N: Hey guys, I know I haven't updated, but it's getting increasingly difficult to find the time to. Like I said, I WILL NOT GIVE UP ON THIS STORY, and to make up for the long wait, I wrote an extra long chapter! :D Enjoy this one!**

**Oh, and recently there has been a spate of plagiarism that has hit FanFiction and FictionPress and in support of some of my favorite authors out there, I just want to say the PLAGIARISM IS LOW AND DESPICABLE. I hope you agree :D**

**As always, I enjoy receiving reviews and constructive feedback, so PLEASE REVIEW AND DON'T JUST LURK!! I'll be infinitely grateful.**

**Lastly, as I'm not exactly **_**the **_**most consistent person in the world (understatement, I know) you guys can check out my blog, where I write poems and the like, the address of which I will post on my profile. :D **

**ENJOY!!!!**

**The Towel's Rage**


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